It feels like home to me
by KivaVonD
Summary: AU Santana is a troubled teen who is taken in by Brittanys mom.Basically my own take on the start of Brittany and Santanas relationship. May contain spoilers.NEW CHAPTER!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer:I do not own Glee, or Brittany or Santana for that matter Thanks to theveiledfairy who makes it look like I have some grasp on spelling and grammer you are awesome :)

**A/N Santana is a troubled teen who is taken in by Brittanys mom. This is their story**

**Brittanys POV**

_-Present day-_

_I woke suddenly, my eyes squinting as I tried to adjust to the darkness._

__

*Bang Bang*

My gaze darted to my bedroom window, straining to identify the offending sound.

*Bang Bang*

_Someone was outside my window, and the panic slowly subsided as the realisation kicked in. "Santana," I whispered. I flung the quilt to the side as I heaved my tired body from the bed._

__

I unlatched the window and peered out at the figure of my best friend. Santana was panting as she practically flung herself into the my bedroom, causing me to stumble backwards as our bodies collided.

"Hey, San. Wha-?" I stopped as I took in the Latina's appearance. Santana's normally perfectly groomed hair hung loose and her eyes were wild. My gaze flickered to the brunette's fists, which were balled at her sides clenching at regular intervals.

I forced myself not to linger on the girl's deliciously toned bare thighs which were covered only with the tiniest denim hot pants. Those were teamed with a white tank that complimented the Latina's caramel skin so well it hurt to look at her.

Santana was staring at me with a look I couldn't decipher and this both intrigued and terrified me.  
"That bastard. That fucking bastard, I'll fucking kill him and that slut. Celibacy club my ass!" Santana spat.

We still hadn't moved from the center of my room. I stared at her, my sleep induced brain trying to figure out what the hell she was talking about.

"I'm dreaming," I sighed grinning lazily. Although I couldn't figure out why, if I was in fact having one of my many Santana inspired dreams, we were not having hot, nasty sex.

"Quinn and fucking Puck!" she screamed."They've been fucking this whole time." I gaped, dumbfounded, at the brunette as I tried to process this new information.

"Omg San, are you sure? Are you okay? What a prick!" I soothed reaching out to touch the girl. "She's ** pregnant Brittany!" she hissed, backing away from my hand as if it burned.

I quickly covered the look of rejection washing over my face. This was about Santana, not me.

"Everyone will fucking know that Santana can't please her man. He had to go look elsewhere. To the president of the fucking virgin society," she whined as she paced back and forth, flicking an offending piece of hair that was forever falling in her face.

She looked at me expectantly, searching desperately for a reaction. I bit down on my lip as I frantically searched my frazzled mind for soothing words of comfort. It was then that I realized, this was definitely not a dream.

"Did u know Brittany? Did everyone fucking know?" she demanded, glaring at me with burning eyes.

Her scowl slowly softened when she registered the hurt and shock clearly evident on my face. I walked over to her grasping her shoulders firmly and gazed into her eyes, trying desperately to communicate everything I was feeling.

I grazed her cheekbone with the pads of my fingers feeling her breath momentarily hitch as I did."Of course I didn't know San," I whispered pleading with her; begging her to believe me.

Her shoulders slumped forward as she held my gaze. She believed me. I took the opportunity to pull her body flush against mine and wrap my slender arms tightly around her tiny waist. She collapsed into the crook of my neck, soft sobs racking through her body.

I drew light circles on the small of her back in an attempt to calm her. I used my free hand to keep her body as close to mine as I could, afraid that if I let go she would shut me out and this new found emotional being would disappear.

Standing there, inhaling the scent that was her, made me dizzy and lightheaded. I relaxed as a slight smile etched its way onto my face; she was intoxicating.

We stood like that, in the center of my room, rocking slowly until her sobbing subsided. I gently removed myself from her soft, warm body, pulling back to get a better look at the shorter girl."You smell awesome," I said, smiling. "Thanks Britt..."she whispered softly, her voice hoarse. I gently placed my hand in hers and led her towards my bed.

I took in the usually outgoing cheerleader's appearance, and my heart ached. I desperately wanted to make it all go away."Stay with me tonight, San. Please?" I whispered. She didn't know it then, but I needed her as much as she needed me. She looked up, staring into my eyes as her own clouded over with a mixture of emotions too fleeting to decipher. She nodded, and I released a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding.

Her eyes were red rimmed and puffy from crying. I wrapped my arm around the smaller girl, trying to banish any distance between us and her head dropped comfortably into the crook of my neck. I could feel her hot shaky breath against my pulse point and I swallowed a moan as her full lips softly grazed my skin with each intake.

I grabbed the quilt with my free hand, trying to stop my body trembling."Not now please," I silently begged. My body beginning to show the tell tale signs of arousal.

_She locked eyes with me, studying me closely. So intently in fact, that I felt a blush creeping up my neck. She hesitated, "I don't know Britt. I mean, I like him and the sex is good. It's what's expected. Everything was fucking perfect, and he...he ruined it..."_

__

I cringed inwardly at her comments, more so at the thoughts of Pucks grunts as he thrusts into Santana. The idea of his rough hands raking over her perfect body, tainting her perfectly smooth skin caused my stomach to clench uncomfortably.

A slight wave of nausea to swept through my body. I trailed my fingers up and down her forearm, staring intently at the trail of goose bumps I left in my wake.

"Am I that unlovable? Am I that hard to be with?" Santana whispered to no one in particular ripping me from my thoughts. I gawked at her, shocked.

She looked so vulnerable; so small and so lost. Without thinking I gently cupped her jaw with my hand forcing sullen dark eyes to meet blue. We held each other's gaze, both urgently trying to communicate so much to the other.

Using my free hand I brushed back that offending piece of hair allowing my fingers to slowly graze the length of her jaw line. She visibly gulped and I was secretly in awe that I had this effect on her. I really did love her in every sense of the word; always had and always would.

The realisation shocked me.

Her eyes were pleading as she waited for me to make it better,"Say something," I thought to myself. "Stop staring at her like an idiot, and say something!"I gently rested my forehead against hers, concentrating on steadying my breathing as her breath mingled with my own; our lips now just centimeters apart.

"You're so beautiful San...so beautiful." I knew I sounded pathetic and cheesy, but I needed her to know how amazing she was."You're the most lovable person I know. You're protective, hilarious, and sweet. You're always so patient with me even though I know I annoy you sometimes with my randomness and inability to grasp the simplest of things. How anyone could not want you is so beyond me. You're so perfect to me and you always have been. Puck's an ** San. You and I both know that. He was never good enough for you. Ever. Of course you're lovable San! Jesus, I love you so fucking much it hurts!" I gasped as the last line escaped my lips.

Santana's eyes widened, shock flooding her features.

I dropped my hands from her face as doubt and terror flowed freely through my body. I tried desperately to take it all back. She would never want me.

__

Santana, who had remained eerily quiet through my whole admission, was now edging her way into the center of my bed. Her face was void of any emotion and she looked as though she was deep in thought. This alone left me feeling terrified and dejected.  
I stared at the floor, horrified by my confession.

Of course Santana didn't feel the same. God, I'm so fucking stupid. "One rule Brittany one fucking rule-Santana never finds out!" I repeated my mantra in my head, not that it mattered anymore. A fresh wave of anxiousness swept through me. I'd fucked everything up. I'd ruined it; all of it.

The realisation hit me hard.

"Britt…" Her voice brought me back to the moment, and I slowly allowed my gaze to rest on the girl now sitting in the center of my bed, careful not to meet her eyes. I couldn't bear to see the look of disgust she'd be wearing .The fear, guilt, and shame danced across my face evident for her to see and I stood up quickly.

I assumed she probably didn't want me anywhere near her, especially when a bed's involved.

I was petrified. "What if she tells everyone at school? I won't be allowed in the girls changing room for cheerios!" Images of red and blue icy liquid flashed violently into my mind followed quickly by the words dyke and queer. All these thoughts were making me dizzy and faint; I latched onto my chair in an attempt to steady myself.

I heard the sound of ruffling fabric as she leisurely patted the area beside her left thigh. I stood rooted to the spot unable to move.  
"Britt... Britt look at me," she pleaded. I gradually lifted my gaze, blinking back the tears as the possibility of losing her became real. She adjusted her position so she was now leaning on her knees in the middle of my bed, her hand reaching out for me.

"Come here" she half whispered, her eyes now locking with mine...


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Big,Big thanks to Theveiledfairy who betaed this.**

10 months previous-

I kicked open my front door, dropping my bag to the wooden floor and making my way into the kitchen. My mother turned to face me, offering a warm smile."Hey sweetie how was your day" she asked stirring what looked to be an assortment of brightly colored vegetables sizzling in a large wok.

"Fine," I mused making my way over to the fridge.  
"Fine?" she asked raising her eyebrow.  
"Yeah mum, it was fine," I insisted, tiring of the monotonous conversation quickly. "I'm going upstairs...homework," I informed her.

"Oh sweetie before you go, there's going to be a young girl staying with us for a little bit. She'll be over this evening," she said before she swiftly turned around, humming softly as she returned to her cooking.  
"Mom!" I raged. "You promised. No more bringing your work home. I really thought this would be different."

"Honey relax, it's only for a while. Why this continues to bother you so much is beyond me," the older woman replied, not even bothering to face the young blonde who was clearly working herself into a distressed state.

"This bothers me MOM, because you care more about those delinquents you insist on bringing into our home then you do about your own fucking flesh and blood".  
I almost regretted my words. Almost.

Slight regret however, did nothing to quell the anger that was currently coursing through my veins. I clenched my fists and counted to ten silently in my head.  
"Honey you can be so dramatic sometimes," she answered finally, chuckling slightly as she added chopped garlic to the sizzling wok.  
I shook my head in disgust, there was no point working myself up.

It wasn't like she gave a shit about my opinions. I knew this, Jesus did I know this, but sometimes I'd forget. I was still naive and thought for once maybe we could discuss things like a normal family.

I felt wetness on my cheek."Fuck," I groaned wiping roughly at the offending tear, cursing it for exposing my weakness. These were the same mantras I'd been repeating to myself over the past couple of years. Since dad left, she'd changed and I hated it. I missed my mom. I missed the time we spent together. We used to be so close.

Then he left and fucked everything up. I thought we were going to be okay, but all she does now is work. It's like she can't stand to be at home with me and my brother; her own family. She hates what we've become. She's just much better at burying that negativity deep inside.  
It helps that she throws herself into the work she does with those rejects. She brings them home with her for Christ's sake. The "last chancers." The "victims."

Please don't go thinking she's some kind of modern day Mother Theresa. The woman's just too afraid to actually be alone with her own children. Afraid that if she stopped and assessed the shitty situation we were currently living in, she'd be forced to accept that he broke her and that she allowed him to break us. That was one thing Susan Pierce would never allow herself to accept.

I trudged upstairs, flinging myself on my bed and burying my face in my pillow while desperately trying to block out the world around me. School had been boring and shitty as usual. The jocks tortured the nerds for fun and the cheerleaders played with the jocks. It was like a really bad case of Groundhog Day. I just thought it was all so meaningless. We would all leave high school in a couple years time and none of it would mean anything anyway.

My thoughts slowed as I began to drift into a sleep like state.

"Brittany, can you come downstairs and help our guest please?" My mother's voice ripped me from my slumber. I bit down on my cheek as I forced my tired joints to lift me off of my bed. I took a deep breath and made for the stairs.

"Yeah, sure. Of course. Because I'm personal servant to all the downtrodden teens in the world," I thought bitterly as I slowly descended the winding staircase.

"Ah, Brittany," my mother cried when she spotted my figure approaching. I didn't reply. I was too anxious of what I might accidently say in front of our "guest".

"Brittany, this is Santana. She's going to be staying with us for a while," she said, gesturing towards the figure I had yet to acknowledge. I swallowed the disdain I held for my mother and finally looked at the girl. I knew she didn't deserve my hostility. I still had a heart people.

My eyes scanned the girl, taking in her features. She was shorter than me, but she was obviously a couple years older. She had long dark hair that fell well below her shoulders, her skin was the color of smooth caramel, and her body was in perfect proportion. She was gorgeous in every sense of the word.

I stared into her dark brown eyes as I extended my hand. "Hi Santana, I'm Brittany." I rolled the introduction of my tongue. It was something I had become accustomed to over the past few years; introducing myself to teens I really had no interest in getting to know.

Santana stared at my hand, but made no attempt to take it. She looked away and appeared to be surveying her new surroundings. "Probably eyeing up what she can steal," I thought cruelly. "Yeah well, I've homework mom, so I'm going to head back upstairs." I turned to leave without offering the girl another glance.

"Oh, Brittany. Your uncle is coming to stay for a couple of weeks and he will be taking the spare room," my mother said causing me to spin around quickly."Oh fuck no!" I screamed to myself silently.

"Santana's going to have to room with you," my mother continued, like it was the most natural thing in the world. I opened my mouth to protest but she was already making her way into the kitchen.

"Sorry, sweetie. I'm covering a shift tonight at the youth center. Gotta dash." I watched in horror as my mother's retreating form disappeared out the front door.

I brought my gaze to Santana. I had, momentarily, forgotten she was there. She now had her eyes firmly fixed on the ground. I took a deep breath and reached for one of her bags.

She swiped it from my hand quickly. "I got it, blondie," she retorted making her way up the stairs. I was left with my mouth hanging open and reeling from the girl's boldness. My mother was in for a serious discussion when she got home, not that she'd care or listen even.

I sighed inwardly before proceeding up the stairs.

This was going to be a long night.

Thanks for reading. Please review it means lots :)


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:Thanks of course to my beta(theveiledfairy) and I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Review it saves lives**

I stood in the doorway of my bedroom watching the Latina intently. She stayed silent placing her bags on the floor completely ignoring my presence.

"Well, if that's how she wants this to be I'm perfectly fine with that," I thought to myself as I walked over to my desk, sat down and powered up my laptop.

I could hear her searching frantically in her bag as I logged in. I refused to turn around and proceeded to open my email. It was obvious she was becoming frustrated and I smiled to myself.

"Is there any place I can put my clothes" she asked, making me practically jump from my seat. Her voice was slightly hoarse and gravely. I turned around and pointed to my wardrobe.

"Um I guess you could put some stuff in there," I shrugged nonchalantly. I used the bigger wardrobe in the guest room so I wasn't overly bothered by the intrusion.

"Thanks" she replied, her voice void of any emotion.

"Its fine," I replied turning my attention back to my computer screen.

"Do you like, need help" I offered unenthusiastically.

"No" was her single reply.

I shrugged and thought, "Hey, can't say I didn't try. I mean, she was in my house; she should be making the effort."

I cursed my mother silently. It was one thing to bring strangers into the house, but to actually put them in MY room. I shook my head lost in my own negative speculations.

I caught sight of the smaller girl in my window. Her hair was hanging in her face as she stooped forward to retrieve various clothes items from her battered gym bag. Her expression was blank as she hung a mismatch of t-shirts and pants.

"She's really, really pretty," I mused, taking in the girl's attire for the first time. She wore faded ripped skinny jeans tucked into grey UGG boots that were teamed with a white tank top and a fitted brown leather jacket. She looks pretty badass I thought to myself smirking inwardly.

It didn't take her long to unpack since, from what I could see, she had a grand total of maybe six complete outfits.

I pretended to study something highly amusing on my monitor as she placed the now empty bag in the far corner of my room.

"I'm going to bed," she said to no one in particular, her gaze not meeting mine.

I then proceeded to shut down my laptop.

"Ok," I replied.

It was only as I moved to leave my OWN BEDROOM, that the full comprehension of the sleeping arrangements hit me.

Two people; only one bed. "Shit."

"So we're sharing?" she asked reading my mind and meeting my gaze for the first time.

Our eyes locked and I felt a blush creeping its way onto my face."What the hell?" I thought to myself mildly shocked by my weird and unexpected reaction.

"I'm used to it," she replied as she began removing her leather jacket.

I stood in the middle of my bedroom, letting my paranoid thoughts wander."So were sharing a bed, no big deal. I've shared my bed with plenty of friends; friends being the operative word. For all I know she could strangle me in my sleep."

"Are you going to stand there and watch?" she questioned startling me from my thoughts. I shook my head dumbly before giving her my best death stare. I was probably failing miserably, but whatever.

"I'm going downstairs, pajamas are in the top drawer," I stuttered as I made a hasty exit. I only allowed myself to breath at a functional level when I had cleared the room.

I stood outside my door startled by the events of the last ten minutes. "Had I somehow entered the twilight zone? Was I allowing myself to get flustered by some delinquent girl with a friggen attitude problem? Why did I let her effect me like that? Asking, 'Did I want to watch?' What does she think I am? Some kind of perve?"

I shook my head dramatically. I'd been practically banished from my own fucking room. "Bitch" I hissed as I descended the stairs, glad to be away from Santana.

I stared lazily at television in my living room, the images starting to blur into one as my eyes drooped desperate for sleep. I contemplated making my way upstairs numerous times, but the image of the Latina asleep in my bed pushed me further into the corner of the couch.

I checked my watch noting my mother would be home from her shift in a couple of hours.

"Fuck this," I thought aloud. "It's my Fucking house. It's my room for Christ's sake."

With adrenaline coursing through my body, I stalked up the stairs.

I stopped abruptly outside my door, my hand hovering over the handle. All my resolve had crumbled as the thought of the sleeping girl less than a couple of feet away invaded my thoughts.

"Get a grip weirdo."

I chuckled at the self proclamation.

I turned the handle carefully, cringing as the door hissed and creaked loudly. "Shit".

My bedside lamp was on, projecting a soft glow around the room. I studied the image in front of me carefully. Santana was most definitely asleep (on my side of the bed I might add).

She was curled up tightly, her hand thrown carelessly across her face shielding her eyes. I noticed she was wearing my school hoodie and I couldn't stop the slight smile that crept onto my face. She looked so peaceful.

Realising I was indeed bordering on pervert status, I quickly undressed right there, throwing on a pale blue t-shirt and grey shorts, and tiptoed over to the opposite side of the bed.

I pulled back the duvet carefully, keeping Santana in my line of vision at all times. I gingerly lowered my body onto the bed, careful not to touch the smaller girl. Luckily she didn't move, and was clearly unaware of my presence.

I edged my way to side of the bed and turned to face the wall. Well isnt this just fucking charming I mused.

It wasn't long before sleep hit me.

I woke suddenly to rapid movements, a gasp, and a flash of red darting past my eyes. Startled I sat up quickly, nearly toppling from my bed in the process. Trying to regain my balance I forced my sleep induced brain to survey my surroundings.

I stared in shock at Santana cowering in the corner of my room with my duvet wrapped around her body tightly.

"What the fuck?" I asked angrily still not entirely awake. She continued to keep her eyes fixed to the floor refusing to meet my gaze.

I started to adjust my sitting position when I felt something wet come into contact with my calf. Startled I turned my gaze to the bed, only now noticing the rather large damp patch present in the center.

Santana allowed a whimper to escape, obviously realising I now knew what had occurred.

Slowly, but calmly, I lifted myself off the bed. I was careful not to come in contact with the ominous patch.

I stared at the girl, who was now visibly trembling in the corner. I wanted to help her, to hug her, to do something, anything, but I hardly knew her.

She continued to fix her gaze to the floor her face flush with embarrassment and shame.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, emotion evident in her voice for the first time.

"Santana, its fine," I whispered back, proud and surprised at my quick, yet calm reaction.

I wasn't mad at all, I just wanted to comfort her. It was so weird. She'd just peed all over my bed, and all I wanted to do was hug her.

"Do you want to shower?" I asked softly, reaching for some towels I had strewn across my radiator.

She nodded slowly, her gaze now firmly fixed on the floor.

I decided against engaging her in conversation. She was clearly mortified and I don't think my ramblings were going to help the situation.

"I'll get clean sheets," I stated, surprising myself in the process.

She shook her head furiously.

"Don't, "she answered coldly. "It's my problem. I'll sort it." She moved towards the bed, attempting to keep the duvet wrapped tightly around her waist.

I assumed she was hoping to avoid any further embarrassment.

Without thinking I wrapped my hand around her wrist pulling her towards"Stop," I said sternly, locking my eyes with hers."I'll change the sheets while you shower. It's fine," I repeated.

She held my gaze as her resistance crumbled. Her shoulders drooped and she gasped softly.

"I didn't know," she admitted quietly. "I thought I'd stopped doing it. It hasn't happened in awhile," she finished, eyes fixed on the wall behind my right shoulder.

"You don't have to explain Santana. It's not my business," I answered calmly.

Okay so it was kind of my business considering it was my sheets she spoiled, but I genuinely couldn't bring myself to be anything but gentle with her.

She fixed her eyes on my shorts and I was puzzled as shame spread across her face. I looked down and finally noticed the small wet patch at the corner of the fabric.

"Fuck!" she cried before turning and exiting my room so fast I felt dizzy.

I warily removed the stained shorts, firing them into my laundry basket and slowly made my way to the bed.

I began to strip the sheets and it wasn't a disgusting or revolting chore by any means. I couldn't quite believe I was doing this for someone I didn't even know.

The scary part being that I didn't even mind.

I was too wrapped up in my thoughts regarding the shaken girl, that I was surprised to find I'd dressed the bed with fresh sheets in record time. I opened my bedroom door, pausing to listen to the rapid trickle of water coming from the bathroom before I tiptoed down the stairs.

I turned on the kettle and sat myself at the kitchen table. My mind quickly wandered to the nights events.

The visual of the emotionless robot I'd first encountered, cowering in the corner of my bedroom like a frightened child caused my chest to tighten uncomfortably.

I was pulled from my musings by the sound of the front door opening.

"Hun, what are you doing up?" my mother asked entering the kitchen and proceeding to pour herself a mug of steaming coffee.

"Couldn't sleep," I lied.

"How's Santana? Sorry I had to leave so suddenly. You know how it is. Is she settling okay? Make sure and be nice to her, Britt. She's been through a lot."

"Yea mum she's fine," I lied again, mentally predicting that this would probably become a pattern as far as Santana was concerned.

I was relieved to hear the shower had been switched off; that would have undoubtedly led to suspicion. Then again, how I was going to explain my sudden desire to change my bed sheets.

That was something else I would have to worry about when the time came.

I was pretty sure the Latina didn't want me repeating the events of tonight to any living soul but I was torn on the matter, not sure whether the girl needed any serious help or if I should tell my mother.

"Poor kid," my mother mused to no one in particular, staring absently out the window as she spoke.

This caught my interest and I pushed for more information.

"So, like… what's her story?" I asked softly, trying not to appear to keen on knowing the information. My mother looked at me inquisitively.

"Since when do you take an interest in any of our guest's back stories?" she asked slightly amused.

"Just making conversation," I fibbed leaning back in my chair. Yup. Definitely a pattern forming.

"She's had it really tough Britt. Look, I really shouldn't be telling you any of this but I think it helps explain a lot about Santana and why she is the way she is."

My mother's expression turned serious and I leaned forward slightly, eager to hear more.

"Her mother is a drug addict and got involved in prostitution to fund her habit. Santana's spent her whole life being dragged from whorehouse to halfway house by her mother, if you'd call her that. She finally settles down about two years back thinking she'd found herself the 'perfect boyfriend'; the 'love of her life.' That usual bullshit, and everyone thinks everything's peachy..."

I placed my hands on either side of my chair. "Shit, this was actually pretty messed up," I thought.

"So, neighbors notice something's not right and social services are called. Santana gets removed from the premises as it turns out the mother was too strung out every day to notice that her boyfriend was sexually abusing her daughter. After all that, they brought her to me, and I brought her here."

I gazed at the floor allowing myself to soak up all these shocking revelations. I was rapidly overwhelmed with a wave of different emotions. Pity, grief, sadness and anger each slowly resonating through my body.

"Look honey, I know it's a shock, but I felt it was best to let you know. I know Santana comes across as standoffish and sometimes even cruel, but it's a defense mechanism; she doesn't know how to be any other way."

I nodded slowly at my mother. "Thanks for telling me mum," I told her as I turned to face the stairs, my brain heavy from the various thoughts and emotions wreaking havoc in my head.

"Britt, one more thing…Santana's going to be staying with us a little longer than our usual guests. God knows she needs some sense of normality and structure after everything she's been through," my mother ended, watching me expectantly.

"Yea, um…okay," I nodded, suddenly realising this was probably the longest conversation me and my mother had had since dad left.

"She's going to be starting school with you Monday, Britt. I know she's a year older but obviously she's fallen a little bit behind." My mother nodded to no one in particular and turned to leave, signaling that the conversation was over.

"Well, that explains a lot," I sighed. As I placed my face in my hands, I was surprised at the wetness that met my touch. I hadn't realised I'd been crying. I thought to the girl in my room and how terrified she'd looked; it all made sickening sense.

"She's coming to school with me," I remembered, trying to wrap my mind around the idea. I couldn't decide how I felt about it. My thought process was dysfunctional after the dramatic events of the night.

I slowly trudged up the stairs as my limbs, cold and tired, screamed with each step.

I opened my door more gingerly, and this time there was no creaking or hissing. Santana was sleeping above the covers near the bottom of the bed. She still wore my hoodie, but she had changed her bottoms.

It was clear from her position that she hadn't intended to fall asleep and she'd most likely been sitting there desperately and anxiously pondering the sleeping situation before her body had succumbed to slumber.

I looked at her with sympathy thinking, "No one deserves what you've been through."

Cautiously making my way over to the sleeping girl, I gently lifted the duvet from under her body. She didn't budge, and I figured she was a heavy sleeper. I tenderly hooked my arms around the girl's tiny waist and carefully moved her body to the top of the bed.

Happy with her current position, I settled myself into the bed beside her, stretching my aching limbs.

I froze when my knee came into direct contact with her thigh.

"I can sleep on the floor."

For the third time in one night, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I turned slightly searching for the brunette's face in the dark.

She obviously took my silence as agreement, and lifted herself from the bed.

Without thinking I reached out, grappling blindly in the dark until my hand connected gently with her side as I began to pull her back down.

"No," I whispered. "Stay."

She gaped down at me in the darkness, the blackness masking whatever emotion danced across her face until slowly, she climbed back in.

We lay facing each other in silence, focusing on our breathing.

"Thanks for… you know," she said, trailing off not willing to speak the words.

"Mmmmm," I sighed, tiredness taking over.

I'm not sure if it was just my exhaustion deluding me, but I'm almost certain she inched a little bit closer to me in the darkness.

I smiled at the thought as I finally let sleep overtake me.

...Tbc...


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:I would just like to thank you guys for the reviews and alerts, it really means a lot.I hope you are enjying this story, its taken on a life of its own chapter is completely unedited therefore all mistakes are my own. I still dont own glee but me and RIB are in talks haha. Review if the mood takes you if not no worries :)**

**This has now been edited thanks to theveiledfairy..."claps" for her :)**

I didn't speak to Santana about that first night. In fact, we didn't really speak at all after her incident.

The morning after had been substantially awkward, with Santana completely ignoring my presence ...again!

If anything, the fiery Latina seemed more intent on ridiculing me and tearing me down at every given opportunity. I was constantly being referred to as "Barbie or Blondie".

For a while, I believed that she didn't actually know my name, but I quickly banished the idea, deeming it ridiculous and pathetically hopeful on my part.

Santana scoffed quietly when my mother asked me about dance classes. She laughed disdainfully when I mentioned cheer leading practice, unable to hold in her comments any longer.

"Wow Barbie, quite the cliché," she whispered when my mother left the room.

I shrugged each comment off, hoping that my outward nonchalance would conceal the stabbing pain ripping through my chest. It was pretty clear she disliked me and I cared more than I would've liked too.

I never retaliated when she attacked because I knew she was hurting, and so I was helpless.

The seriousness of her situation weighed heavily on my mind, and I needed time to process the information I had gained in the short time she'd been with us. Her constant bashing wasn't helping the situation.

I knew I had to approach her carefully. She was fragile and an offhand comment on my part had the potential to break the girl completely.

"Santana, are you feeling okay honey?" My mother asked tenderly and I glanced up from my half eaten dinner.

My brother was thrashing his thumbs frantically against the small electronic device in his hands.

"Die alien scum DIE!"he screeched at the small screen, oblivious to any activity going on around him.

"Cory watch your mouth, and finish your food" my mother scolded, before quickly turning her attention back to the Latina, who was carelessly pushing untouched food around her plate.

"Santana?" she tried again gently.

The girl lifted her head hesitantly and met my mother's gaze.

"I'm fine, Dianne; just not hungry," she answered returning her gaze to the plate in front of her.

"The food is great though..." she quickly added, offering my mother the faintest whisper of a smile.

I studied the girl carefully while pretending to pick at a piece of dried chicken on my plate.

She looked so different when she smiled. Her features softened significantly and the vast pain behind her eyes vanished, if only for an instant.

"Yes?" she quipped, now staring directly at me, her eyebrow raised in a questioning manner.

I'd become so wrapped up in my inner thoughts that I'd failed to notice how I was now smiling unashamedly at the girl in front of me.

"Wha-? Nothing...I was thinking," I stuttered, averting my eyes to the floor while trying desperately to rid myself of the blush framing my face.  
She stared at me, locking her eyes with mine with a sly grin plastered across her perfect face; chocolate brown clashing deliciously with ocean blue.

I felt my breath hitch slightly as her orbs burned into mine. Her next move was so unexpected I nearly toppled backwards off my chair. She smiled at me; a genuine smile dancing its way elegantly across her face.

I was hesitant as I absorbed the unexpected show of emotion. Against my better judgment I forced myself to smile back. Call me naive.

Then she winked at me.

It happened so quickly I questioned its authenticity.

The blush I'd been desperately trying to cover up, displayed itself proudly across my face.

"She's doing this on purpose," I realized as irritation cut across my face. Santana grinned slightly before dropping her gaze back to her dinner plate.

I glanced quickly at my mother curious to see if she had witnessed the exchange. She hadn't. She was too busy typing furiously on her laptop, as her own dinner plate sat cold and untouched.

Santana and I could have started fucking furiously right there on the dinner table and she wouldn't have batted an eyelid.  
I giggled softly to myself...

"Wooooah,were did that come from?" I gasped inwardly, desperately trying to banish the extremely visual images of Santana's lithe body writhing in pleasure beneath mine.

I chanced a quick glance at Santana, diverting my gaze when I noticed she was now staring out the kitchen window, an unreadable expression framing her face.

"How do you feel about starting school on Monday hun?" my mother questioned, looking up from the computer screen and gazing expectantly at Santana.

"I know it's a big step, but I think it's exactly what you need".

"Yeah ... Um... I guess," Santana offered with downcast eyes and no trace of the manipulative minx I'd encountered seconds before remaining. This girl's volatile emotional state was making me dizzy.

"Yes," my mother continued obviously happy with Santana's response, "a fresh start, new school; new people, it's exactly what you ne-"

Santana stood abruptly, knocking violently off the corner of the table. The sickening sound of bone colliding with metal echoed around the now silent room as her hip collided with it.

She winced as a slow hiss escaped her lips. The reverberations caused my glass of water to tumble backwards, flowing freely into my lap.

"Shit," I cried softly staring at my now sopping wet jean shorts. I reached for a paper towel but froze when Santana began to speak.

"Yeah Dianne, that's exactly what I need; a new fucking school and new people, because that's going to fix EVERYTHING!" Santana shrieked, flailing her arms wildly and dangerously.

"Cory, go to your room," my mother ordered calmly, yet firmly.

I watched in awe as the shocked smaller boy tepidly retreated from the room, his eyes flickering between Santana and my mother. I slowly turned back to face the fuming Latina.

My mother's ramblings were faint whispers in the distance as I stared transfixed at the smaller girl standing at the top of the table, her body trembling visibly.

Her fists were curled stoically at her sides while her eyes omitted a burning fire I'd never witnessed.

"I think it's a capital idea Dianne! Ship me off to a new family! A new school and I'll just magically forget that men three times my age have been fucking me for as long as I can remember, while my loving mother was in the same room! Or perhaps that I don't have any friends my own age because I wasn't permitted to leave my house! Forget that I've got ugly scars marking my whole fucking body, acting as a constant reminder that I was beaten, bitten and burned nearly every day of my fucking pathetic excuse for a life!" Santana spat the last sentence, as her body collapsed and the tears flowed freely from her eyes.

She was hysterical as her sobbing turned into high pitched shrieks. I sat rooted to the spot desperately willing my body to move.

"Santana honey, that's it. Let it all out," my mother cooed softly.

My eyes widened as I turned to face her. She hadn't as much as flinched throughout Santana's terrifying outburst.

I watched in wonder as she slowly lifted herself from the kitchen table and walked purposefully towards the sobbing girl, enveloping her tiny figure in a bone crunching hug.

Initially, Santana struggled fiercely against it. Her fists pounded against my mother's chest in a futile attempt to loosen her grip.  
Eventually, after what seemed like hours, Santana's body stopped fighting. She dropped her hands and allowed herself to quite literally fall into the embrace. Soft sobs wracked her body as she cried into my mother's shoulder.

"Britt, why don't you go upstairs get some school work done?" my mother suggested, never breaking the embrace with Santana.

"I...can I he..." I was lost for words, desperately wanting to help, but frustratingly not knowing how.

"No Britt, me and Santana need to talk," my mother answered definitively, leaving no room for questioning.  
I nodded sorrowfully before lifting myself from my chair and walking towards the door.

I cast a quick glance behind me and was confronted with a still sobbing Santana being led to the couch by my mother.

A tiny twinge of jealousy snaked out from my core. I quickly banished it, as shame spread through me like a vicious cancer.

"Santana needs this. She needs my mother. Of course she does," I repeated to myself.

I unhurriedly climbed the stairs as the distant sobbing became a whisper in the wind the further I ascended.

I flung open my bedroom door and flopped carelessly onto my bed. My mind was frazzled from the events of dinner.

The compassion, patience, and love my mother had displayed was so foreign to me. I hadn't been held in my mother's arms in years.

I quickly shook the thought from my mind, shame once again flooding through my body.

"God, it's so fucked up," I cried, climbing under my duvet and praying for sleep. It was ridiculously early but I yearned for the small sense of normalcy unconsciousness would bring.

I eventually fell into a fitful sleep until I was awoken by a soft tapping on my door.

"Hey kiddo, were you sleeping?" my uncle asked sheepishly, poking his head around the frame of the door.

"Hey John! Nope just resting my eyes," I giggled launching myself at the taller man.

My uncle, who was my dad's brother, had been pretty amazing after my father abandoned us. He'd really been there for my mom in the first few months, and I'd always be secretly grateful.

John often stayed with us when he was in town on business, but unfortunately, due to his erratically inconsistent and long hours, actually seeing him in the flesh was still a complete miracle in its self.

"I'm heading out kiddo, but just wanted to check on you to see how you're holding up," he said softly as his eyes clouded over with genuine concern, causing my heart to swell slightly, if only momentarily.

"I'm great," I lied, averting my eyes from his and forcing a smile onto my face.

"Ah that's good," he chimed gently as a comfortable silence echoed around them.

"Well, I gotta go Britt! We'll go for dinner before I head home. All of us. I promise," he declared before retreating from my room.  
"Yeah, that would be nice ,"I whispered, fully aware he hadn't heard me.

Part of me contemplated returning to my bed and sleeping the rest of the day away; however, guilt and curiosity propelled me towards my door.

I gingerly exited my room and tentatively descended the stairs, listening intently as I opened the kitchen door and braced myself. My eyes did a quick sweep of the room before I determined that my caution was unnecessary. I was alone.

I noticed the dishes from our meal had been washed as I proceeded to the dining room. Distant giggling reached my ears and spurned me onwards. I pushed the door open and was shocked at what I saw.

Sitting in the middle of the dining room, on the floor and laughing loudly, were Santana and Cory.

They were both holding game console controllers in their hands as they shouted competitively at the screen.

I smiled softly at the image before me. Santana's eyes were scrunched up in concentration as her body mimicked the actions on screen. I tried to ignore the puffy appearance of her slightly red eyes as it was a tell tale indicator of recent crying.

Santana who had just noticed my presence glanced at me momentarily before turning her gaze back to the screen.

The previous hurt feeling washed over me along with my realization.

"So, she's ignoring me again," I sighed inwardly, returning my attention to the dueling duo.

"Yes!" Santana cried loudly, waving her arms dramatically. She'd obviously won whatever game they were playing, and she seem to be enjoying herself as she twisted slightly, goading my younger brother and basking in her glory.

"Cheater face" he replied laughing as Santana stuck her tongue out and wiggled it at him.

"One more game, cheater face?" he asked wiggling his eyebrows.

"No, not tonight munchkin, I don't want to make you cry ...AGAIN," she replied lifting herself from the floor.  
"I'll give you some time to practice before I beat you ...AGAIN," she laughed.

"Whatever, I'm the bestest!" he squealed, before quickly turning his attention back to the screen.

Santana walked towards me, sidestepped, bumped off my shoulder, and exited the room without as much as a glance.

"Charming," I quipped, trying to decide whether or not I should follow her.

"Why is she making this so hard?" I thought to myself. With another sighed I exited the room, resigning myself to follow here wherever she was going.

There was banging coming from the kitchen, and when I entered Santana was sitting at the counter eating ice cream from the tub. Leaning back against the ceramic sink, I was suddenly unsure of what to say.

I attempted to speak numerous times, but everything sounded so wrong in my mind.

I was terrified I would say something that might trigger an outburst similar to the display we'd witnessed at dinner. My mother was clearly AWOL and if I was being honest the prospect of a hysterical, enraged Santana terrified me.

When I finally lifted my head, I noticed she was staring at me intently, oblviously aware of my internal struggles over her.

"You okay blondie? You look like you're in pain. Did you fall off the pyramid…again? Poor baby!" she asked in mock concern, her voice laced with boredom that she made no efforts to camouflage.

"Be the bigger person," I instructed silently.

"Yeah, um… I was just wondering if you were, you know...okay?" I revealed, looking downwards as I fidgeted with the sleeve of my hoodie.

"Ha...I'm far from okay Barbie, but I'm not going to go all psycho on your ass if that's what you're asking," she answered nonchalantly.

Santana was baffling. How could the girl that was so engrossed in the throes of an emotional breakdown two hours prior suddenly be dry eyed, stone faced, and peppering me with abuse.

I couldn't understand the girl so I wouldn't allow myself to judge her, but it was getting harder to keep letting the insults and snide remarks slide.

"My name's Brittany," I reminded her gently, firmly holding her gaze. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, chewing softly as I waited. It was a nervous habit I'd displayed since childhood.

She looked away quickly but not before her eyes clouded with something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"Blondie, Barbie, Brittany; same difference," she drawled spooning more ice cream into her delicious mouth.

I cut my eyes away, annoyed that I would think of her that way when she was being so cruel.

"Fine. Whatever. I'm done trying!" I answered coldly, turning to leave.

"Oh, is the Malibu princess getting mad? Did daddy not buy you the BMW you wanted? Ahh that sucks! What a hard life you lead," she replied viciously.

I could feel anger rising. My breathing became ragged as I tried to stop them, but the words tumbled out of my mouth like vomit.

"I know you've had a really shitty time okay! I know, and I'm really genuinely sorry that you had to go through that! I can't even imagine what you've been through! I've put up with your abuse and I've taken it because I know underneath all the shit you're probably a really great person, but don't for one second think you know what my life is like! I might not have medical records or social services documents or scars to prove what I've been through but my life hasn't been fucking perfect, okay? You got a raw deal, a really fucking raw deal, but it doesn't mean you have to push everyone who's trying to care for you and love you away! You like to come across as a cruel heartless BITCH, but I know you're just a scared little girl who wants someone to want her back!" I shouted, gasping when the last words left my mouth.

Santana stared at me her mouth hanging open.

"SHIT FUCK SHIT" I screamed at myself silently. I'd finally allowed my anger to bubble to the surface, and now I was free to sit back and watch the destruction it'd undoubtedly cause.

We stared at each other for what felt like hours.

I turned to leave, guilt quickly ebbing its way into my mind. I couldn't stay and witness the hurt evident in her butterscotch eyes.

"Brittany," she called softly.

I turned around cautiously expecting some kind of cooking apparatus to hit me square between the eyes.

"You're…you're right," she said slowly meeting my eyes.

As I met her gaze, I felt that familiar feeling of shame overtake any of my anger that remained.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said any of that, I'm sorry. I'm so-," I pleaded with her.

"Don't be! You were right Brittany," she interjected, cutting me of mid flow.

I smiled warmly at the mention of my name.

Santana noticed and her own mouth tilted upwards slightly.

"I am a bitch. I'm cruel, heartless, selfish, and I push people away. I don't know how to be around people. Well, normal people that is…"  
"It's not personal," she added.

I nodded silently waiting for her to continue afraid that by interrupting her monologue, I might force her back inside her rock like exterior.

"I find it hard...all of it, all of this," she sighed gesturing to the room around her, myself included.

I held her gaze and nodded slowly, her eyes spoke a truth her mouth never could.

She was terrified. Her eyes were pleading, begging me to comprehend the desperate words she couldn't speak.

Abandoning all sense of reason, I tentatively walked towards the girl and wrapped my arms protectively around her tiny waist pulling her body flush against my own.

If the action shocked her, it astonished me. I can't explain why I did it, it just felt so right.

She gasped audibly and tensed under my touch. My breath hitched.

"Is this okay," I asked self consciously, searching her glossy eyes for reassurance.

I'd never been one for grand physical gestures but there was something undeniable about Santana that made me want to be close to her, to hold her, to protect her.

I needed her to trust me, to let me in. The notion that she may reject my impulsive embrace bothered me deeply.

Santana stared into my eyes, searching for any ill motives I might have but I assumed it was a force of habit. Given her history, I didn't blame her.

I just wanted so badly for her to trust me and I didn't even know why.

I tried to make my eyes convey the thoughts I was too afraid to voice.

"Yeah" she sighed contently after a moment, relaxing into my embrace. I released a breath I hadn't realised I was holding as sheer joy erupted through my body.

"Control yourself weirdo," I commanded inwards.

I was pulled from my inner chastising as Santana wrapped her own arms around my waist, her eyes never leaving mine.

She was hesitant at first unsure of where to place her hands, and I responded by pulling her closer burying her face in the crook of my neck.

"It is," she concluded.

We stood like that for a while, breathing in the scent of the other, familiarising ourselves with these new developments. The feeling of a friends body pressed against our own was foreign to both of us.

"Before, what you said about having no friends…"I started lifting my head from hers, "Let me be your friend," I whispered dropping my gaze to the ground and cringing inwardly at how stupid I sounded.

Santana stared into my eyes as fear and trepidation danced across her face.

"I won't hurt you," I promised, drawing light circles on her back.

These words made me suddenly aware of how intimate our position was. Our senses were on high alert as every movement caused a sharp intake of breath.

"Yeah, I'd like that," she sighed returning her face to my neck.

"You're different Brittany," she whispered so quietly I'd had to strain to hear it.

I analyzed her words both delighted and intrigued by their meaning.

She placed a light feather like kiss to my neck ripping me from my thoughts before she pulled away gently and out of my embrace.  
I silently whimpered at the loss of contact.

"I'm a fuck up Brittany, but I promise to actually try this time. I want to be normal. Just be patient with me...please?" she spoke timidly and cautiously placed her hand in mine.

I laced my fingers through hers amazed at how easily we entwined as one.

"Of course," I replied honestly squeezing her hand reassuringly. She nodded in appreciation and our eyes met, causing a surge of electricity to crackle through my body.

"Wanna watch a movie?" I asked desperate to break the unfamiliar tension engulfing the room.

"It's what friends tend to do," I added chuckling softly.

"I think that's a capital idea," she mused joining me in my laughter as a genuine smile finally reached her eyes.

It was good to hear her laugh; it made Santana seem more normal, more accessible somehow. The invisible barrier she'd built between us was shattered.

I walked towards the sitting room with Santana trailing behind me. My legs were lighter than they'd been in days and my mind felt at ease for the first time in a long time.

I was so busy musing over my selection of DVDs that I failed to notice Santana watching me.

She gazed at me from across the room, her eyes fixed firmly on my hunched figure. I remained unaware as she studied me carefully, smiling at me as I rambled on regarding the selection we had to choose from.

"I think that God has laid a hand…" she whispered softly to no one in particular as she made her way over to my side of the room.

TBC

Next chapter, Santana begins school with Brittany. They attend a party; Cue drunkenness, jealousy, and lots more ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This chapter was supposed to be completely differant but when I started writing this is what happened. I want to thank everyone for all the lovely reviews and alerts,they mean a lot. This had been edited by the lovely veield fairy. Hope you enjoy this. Review it saves lives.**

**Two days and Brittana is so on :)...WARNING:Mentions of sexual abuse in this chapter. Not detailed in any way but may be a trigger for some people.**

_"The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall_."-Nelson Mandela

They say after a huge storm serenity follows, and it did to a certain extent. I don't believe in fairytales; even as a child I questioned the "happy ever after" that concluded every story I was read. I'm not a pessimist; I see the glass as half full. I do. I'm just realistic. The world can be a pretty fucking harsh place, bad things happen to good people every day. No one can explain it so we accept life, and I'm okay with it...I have to be.

Brittany's POV

After our confrontation Santana changed. If you're expecting me to say everything was perfect, that Santana and I were now the best of friends who told each other everything and painted each other's nails, I'm afraid you're reading the wrong story.

Things did change, she changed.

To an oblivious outsider she was the same broken girl who first came to us, but I knew different.

It was her eyes. The hurt and pain that had clouded her vision for so long had been slowly washed away.

Her smile became more regular and genuine, like a child learning how to display the emotion for the first time.

We spoke more frequently as time passed and we grew more comfortable in each other's presence. She laughed loudly at my stupid stories never again calling them childish or immature.

Her eyes lit up like a Fourth of July weekend and I'd laugh back, ignoring the steadily growing unfamiliar tingling sensation in the pit of my stomach.

Of course there were still dark times when she would revert back into that lightless place.

When this happened she would speak to no one, the silence suffocating us all as unreadable expressions flittered across her face.

Sometimes she would snap unexpectedly and hurtled harsh, cruel words my way.

"What the fuck do you know princess? You don't know shit. We're not the same and we'll never be the same." she'd spit, her eyes glazing over as I searched desperately for any trace of the girl I'd come to know and like.

Hurt and disappointment would course through me as I tried to convince myself that every time she snapped it was the last time, the finale. Convince myself that the ridicule and torment would stop; that we were past it. That I'd changed her.

I knew she never meant any of it. She would come to me shortly afterwards, guilt evident in her eyes. "Sorry," she'd whisper her eyes searching mine.

I'd look away still hurt and she'd dance nervously on her two feet before reaching out and softly turning my head back to hers.

"Britt...please?" she'd plead, searching my eyes frantically. And just like that all would be forgiven.

Relief would flood both our bodies as we both unknowingly yearned to be accepted and wanted by the other.

Other times she would seek me out and just sit with me in a somber silence, her hands clasping around mine in a vice like grip. These were the scariest times.

I could handle the screaming, but the silence terrified me. I never spoke when this happened because I knew she didn't come to me for words of comfort; she needed to go back there.

She needed to understand it in her own head. She was always probing her memories desperately for answers. I would squeeze her hand tighter knowing she'd probably never find them.

As time passed we became true friends. I learned how to handle her outbursts, which were becoming less and less frequent and in return she slowly started chipping away at the fort she had built around herself.

Sometimes she'd catch me looking at her or vice versa with an unfamiliar gaze neither of us could decipher.

I'd never been physically close with my friends, but Santana was an exception to the rule. We always found ways to touch each other regardless of the situation. It was like an invisible force drawing us into each other and it both intrigued and terrified me.

I brushed my teeth lazily as I stared at my reflection in my bathroom mirror before bed one night.

"Not bad," I joked inwardly winking at my reflection before placing my toothbrush back in its holder.

I exited the bathroom flattening my crisp cheerleading uniform which was hanging on the door.

"So...Are you excited about school tomorrow San?" I asked excitedly bounding over to my bed.

Santana was all ready under the covers her body curled inwards facing the opposite way.

"Britt, not so loud everyone's asleep," she scolded without turning to face me.

"Oh chillax Sergeant Major," I answered playfully, scooting my body under the covers.

"Its fucking freezing," I chimed wrapping the duvet around my body in an attempt to banish the cold.

"Yeah," Santana replied monotonously.

"We'll your just full of fun tonight, huh?" I answered.

"I'm just tired. I'm going to sleep," she retorted shortly.

"Well okay then, grumpy ass. Must be your old age," I teased baiting her to participate in my playful banter.

Santana was only two years older than me, but I liked to remind her.

I was met with silence.

Realising Santana obviously wasn't in the talking mood, I rolled over slowly and allowed my body to succumb to sleep.

I woke suddenly, my eyes opening slowly and adjusting to the darkness as I glanced at my clock. 2:20am. My body begged for sleep and I began to close my eyes.

I was startled when the soft sobs reached my ears.

My whole body tensed when I realised it was Santana. She hadn't cried since that night at dinner, so I knew this was bad. Sitting up quickly I flicked on my bedside lamp and turned to stare at the girl.

Santana was facing the opposite wall and I leaned forward trying to see her face. She gasped quietly.

"San...San, what is it? What's wrong?" I asked attempting to turn her body towards me.

"Nothing. It's nothing. I'm fine, go back to sleep," she rattled out curling her body tighter into the duvet.

Sighing I inched over until my body collided with her back. I rested my chin on the crook of her shoulder.

"You were crying San. Talk to me."

I was once again met with silence.

I hesitantly wrapped my arm around her waist pulling her impossibly close and she tensed under my touch.

"Tell me San," I pleaded, absent mindedly drawing light circles on her exposed stomach.

After seconds of excruciating silence she shifted under my touch.

She repositioned her body to face me and melted into my embrace, never enlarging the distance.

I tensed at the closeness of our current position, her chest pressed flush against mine.

The close proximity caused my breathing become erratic and I tried to calm myself as her eyes searched mine before she spoke.

"I don't want to go to that school tomorrow, "she revealed her voice cracking.

I wrapped my arms around her more firmly; our foreheads were now millimeters from each other and I inhaled deeply as her breath mixed with mine.

"I hated my last school, it was fucking horrible. I didn't have any friends because they all knew Britt; they all knew what I let him do to me. I was tainted; I was a trashy slut who fucked her mother's boyfriend."

"They all thought I fucking seduced him or something…like I wanted it. How sick is that Britt? I was twelve when it started for fucks sake…" she sobbed.

"What if they know Britt? I can't go through it again...I can't," she finally finished.

Silence settled over us as Santana's admission hung in the air. Tears flowed freely from her eyes but her face remained expressionless. I sighed audibly before pulling her into the crook of my neck, wet droplets stinging the skin there.

Santana had never spoken to me directly about her past. I'm ashamed to say I preferred it that way. Whenever she skated around the subject, my heart clenched uncomfortably. I felt rage and disgust rise up inside me. "That fucking bastard," I screamed silently. "If I ever got my fucking hands on him..."

I pulled myself from my thoughts to focus on the girl sobbing into my neck. I grasped her face with my hands, pulling her gently up to eye level.

There was so much pain and fear radiating off of her that she was trembling. I studied her intently, before I leaned forward, gently kissing her tear streaked face tenderly and softly.

"I'll be there San. I'll kick the shit out of anyone who talks about you or even looks at you…Anybody who even thinks about looking at you," I added for dramatic effect.

She stared up at me, giggling softly through the tears.

I kissed her cheeks and her forehead, brushing my lips over the wet skin I encountered. There was nothing sexual behind my actions and she knew this too. I was merely comforting my friend the best way I knew how.

Santana relaxed into my kisses, her tears slowly subsiding. The act I was performing was extremely intimate, but somehow it just felt right. There was no hesitation or nervousness on either of our parts.

As my lips ghosted over the corner of her mouth she turned her head slightly, her full lips meeting mine unexpectedly.

I was startled as I began to pull away, readying myself to apologise to the Latina.

Surprisingly, her hand appeared at the side of my jaw, cupping my cheek and forcing my lips back to hers. She sought out my mouth, desire want and hurt pulsating from her body. She needed this I realized. More importantly, she wanted this.

I relaxed into the kiss, tentatively pushing my lips softly against hers and tasting the bittersweet fusion of salty tears and mint.

She clawed at my body, pulling me impossibly close.

Her kisses were becoming needy and hungry in her quest for reassurance as her wet mouth smashed against mine.

When I felt her tongue ghost across my bottom lip seeking entrance, I opened my mouth slowly allowing her in.

Her tongue dipped into my mouth battling gently with my own as she rolled her body on top of mine, settling between my legs, and never breaking the tender contact.

Her arms wound around my neck tightly, clinging to me urgently as her mouth continued engulfing mine.

Her breasts pressed lightly against my own and I tasted fresh tears as Santana's tongue danced with mine slowly working up to a delicious rhythm I never wanted to stop.

We lay like that for just under twenty minutes, never once breaking contact, and never going beyond kissing.

It felt so normal, so right. I never felt any doubt or fear throughout the entire act. My mind had never been clearer despite the fact I'd never kissed a girl before.

Santana removed herself from me abruptly, the serene like atmosphere in the room suddenly shifting. I had barely taken in the dazed look on her face before it vanished, and she began sputtering nervously.

"I don't know what...I'm sorry...Omg...are you okay?" she asked her eyes clouding with concern as her gaze searched my face.

I couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped my lips. It felt foreign in this atmosphere and caused the Latina to stare at me dumbfounded.

"Relax, I'm fine," I answered calmly, my eyes lingering on the older girl's puffy red lips. Worry dominated her features, but the smallest tinge of desire was still evident in her eyes.

"You hardly forced me into anything San. I'm a big girl."

Santana tensed immediately, guilt evident in her eyes. I quickly realised my choice of words had been poor to say the least.

"Is it the age thing?" I wondered. We were only two years apart and I was fifteen; there was hardly anything news worthy about us.

The fact that we were both girls never entered my mind.

I reached out trailing my fingers up and down her arm.

"I'm good," I answered softly holding her gaze. She scooted towards me.

"That shouldn't have happened," she whispered, her eyes apologetic.

"I'm not a child Santana," I replied continuing my ministrations on her arm.

"I never said you were. It's just...it's wrong Britt. It feels dirty," she whispered.

I pulled my arm from hers, hurt and rejection sweeping through my body.

I swiftly turned onto my side, scooting to the other side of the bed eager to distance myself from the whole situation.

"Britt don't do that, listen to me," she pleaded, her arms reaching for my shoulder.

"Please don't touch me," I whispered, my voice cracking slightly at the end. The kiss had opened up a whole new wave of emotions that I was not ready to deal with. It was too much for me to process in such a short time.

I felt surprisingly strong arms wrap around my waist. I jerked my body trying to shake her off but her grip only tightened the more I protested.

"Stop," she breathed out, her mouth directly above my left ear.

I sighed frustratingly before allowing my now exhausted body to go still.

"Let me explain," she started, her arms still encircling my waist with her face resting on my shoulder.

Her actions mirrored mine from just minutes before.

I closed my eyes hating myself for relishing her touch and allowed her to continue.

"Your mom's taken me in Britt and she's been really good to me. I finally feel like I've found a home and I don't want to mess that up. What if Dianne had walked in here ten minutes ago to find me demoralising her daughter? I can't do that to her Brittany. I owe her that at least! It can't happen again. I'm so sorry, Britt. I shouldn't have let it go that far, but it was just a kiss right? No harm done? I don't even know what the fuck I was doing. I'm not...I'm not a dyke. I'm straight. I wasn't thinking. This whole school thing is fucking with my mind!"

She was silent again waiting for my reaction.

Her words ripped through my flesh as my heart tore in two.

Suspecting she wasn't going to get a response, she tried again.

"You're my best friend Brittany. I hope you know that and I hope I didn't fuck it up because of one stupid mistake...I don't want, no I can't lose you," she concluded.

I turned to stare into her delicious brown eyes and sighed. "It was just one stupid kiss," I repeated silently.

"You're right. Let's just forget it ever happened," I conceded softly, hoping she wouldn't see through my lies. I was still trying to process tonight's events in my head, but everything felt numb.

"Maybe I'm in shock" I thought silently as my mind wandered.

"Oh, thank god Britt! You had me worried. Don't do that," she whispered enveloping me in a bone crunching hug. I tensed slightly and she noticed.

"Don't worry Britt I'm not going to go all Lezzy Lohan on you," she added with a chuckled, trying to ease the building tension and misunderstanding my reaction completely.

She was trying to reassure me while unknowingly breaking my heart.

I analysed the situation in my head. It meant nothing to her so I figured it was better to find out now rather than later.

"I don't blame you. I'd want me some of this too," I joked, ignoring the clenching in my chest.

"Fuck off," she laughed squeezing me tighter relief evident in her voice.

"I seriously don't know what I was thinking Britt. I can't imagine what was going through your mind,and I've never done anything like that before," she said laughing half heartedly.

I couldn't help but notice the hidden question in her words.

I shrugged the thought from my mind. "Santana's straight. I'm...straightish, it meant nothing," I reminded myself.

"Well after that rather interesting night, I'm going to sleep," I informed the smaller girl who was still attached to my abdomen.

"We got school tomorrow, and I need to look my best" I joked.

"Yeah, school. It'll be interesting..." Santana mused reminding me of the conversation that had led to our "incident."

"You'll be fine San," I reassured, happy how easily we were falling back into our "normal" relationship again.

"Yeah," she sighed, sleep lacing her voice."I'll have you," she concluded.

Warmth rushed through my body.

"Yeah, you will," I replied, "Always."

She snuggled closer into my back and I gathered the blanket back around us before I settled in for sleep.

"Dyke is a horrible word,"she spoke suddenly, rousing me from my semi sleep like state.

"I shouldn't have used it before," she explained.

"Yeah," I agreed, meeting her eyes.

I was slightly startled and intrigued by her admission. She held my gaze smiling softly.

"Night, Britt. Love you," she yawned before dropping her head to my shoulder.

I lay in silence, my body aching for sleep. I was entranced by the way in which our breathing synched into one steady rhythm, but more so by the words that still hung in the air.

It was the first time Santana had said I love you.

tbc

review :)


	6. Chapter 6

**_A/N: This is kind of a filler chapter but is essential to the storyline. If im honest it was my least favorite chapter to write, but it had to be done...:)!I write this story chapter by chapter so if you guys have any ideas Im always open to suggestions!Anyways thanks for reviewing (it means so much) and reading and I hope your enjoying it so far!Edited by "theveiledfairy"(kudos to her) :)_**

_I believe we're all in denial about the people we love-David Geffen_

Sometimes, something happens that changes our whole perspective on life. Everything we thought we knew about ourselves up until that point is deemed void and irrelevant.

We can either embrace the change and move forward or we can ignore it and revert back to the time before the revelation. You can pretend it never happened; erase it from your memory and move on seemingly unaffected.

Unfortunately in the smallest crevice, in the deepest pit of your mind, it will linger; patiently, gnawing slowly at your conscious, lulling you into a soothing false sense of security.

Denial can overshadow it temporarily, but even you're aware it can't last forever...

**Brittany's POV**

I woke early, a comfortable and familiar weight pressing softly into my side.

I smiled contentedly realising it was Santana.

Unsuspectingly, the events of last night came hurdling towards me; the memories hitting me like a catastrophic tidal wave.

My stomach clenched painfully as I replayed the vivid pictures in my head.

The word "dyke" was louder than all the rest, and resonated heavily in my mind. Panic seized my body, taking me completely by surprise.

I stared intently at the sleeping form. Her mouth was open slightly and her dark hair covered the left side of her face like a velvet curtain.

Her breathing was calm and even, and I became transfixed by the steady soothing rhythm.

I felt no anger or resentment towards the Latina.

How could I be mad when I still wasn't entirely sure how I felt about the girl?

I was thoroughly confused, and my brain was a carnival of conflicting and unfamiliar emotions.

I was definitely not in the right frame of mind to tackle my growing feelings towards the sleeping girl.

My momentary unease dissipated as I realised Santana's moment of panic was a sweet blessing in disguise.

It gave me valuable time to process my feelings thoroughly before making any rash decisions or declarations.

I was under no pressure to label anything, and for that alone I was eternally thankful.

I sighed sleepily hoping our brief intimate encounter had not damaged our growing relationship.

I slowly detached myself from the sleeping girl and made my way towards the bathroom.

I turned on the shower stripping quickly, but hesitated before entering the ceramic box. Santana was on my skin, and I didn't want to wash any of her away.

I blushed, embarrassed and slightly confused by my silent admission.

"Stop being fucking ridiculous," I scolded inwardly.

I stepped into the shower tentatively, eventually allowing the hot bursts of water to slowly clear my body and mind.

I forced another spoon of cereal into my mouth, ignoring the cardboard texture as I swallowed it down.

Santana had yet to come downstairs, and her lack of presence was making me uneasy to say the least.

"Cory, stop fooling around and eat your cereal," my mother scolded.

My brother was absentmindedly lolling his tongue and displaying his half-eaten breakfast proudly to the table.

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and looked away.

"Freak," I sighed as I averted my gaze from his disgusting displays.

"Where's Santana?" my mother asked staring at me questioningly.

"Don't know," I offered nonchalantly staring into my half eaten bowl as my mother quirked an eyebrow at me disbelievingly.

"Getting ready I guess, Mom."

My mind drifted back to the night before as I pushed my bowl away revolted by its soggy contents.

"This is a big day for her Britt. Make sure you look after her," my mother replied.

I nodded, slowly swishing the milky congealed food around my bowl.

Santana appeared in the doorway suddenly, startling me from my dazed state. She flopped into the seat beside me and began pouring cereal into an empty bowl.

I tensed slightly unsure of how to address the girl. I despised the awkwardness I was allowing myself to feel. Thankfully my mother saved me from my dilemma.

"Santana you look nice," she beamed, gazing approvingly at the sleepy Latina.

"Thanks Dianne. And thanks for getting me these clothes," she replied, smiling softly.

"Of course sweetheart," my mother mused filling her cup with her eighth cup of coffee this morning.

"Hey Britt, you all set?" Santana asked turning to me and meeting my gaze.

Her eyes scanned mine searchingly and the tiniest fragment of fear was evident.

"Yup," I replied tearing my eyes away from hers.

An uncomfortable silence followed, both of us allowing the awkward tension to build steadily.

"You look nice," she finally whispered bumping her shoulder against my own.

"Thanks San," I said with a smile, blushing slightly. I was secretly delighted that someone had noticed the effort I'd put into my appearance.

"You do too," I replied scanning the girls outfit. Santana was wearing tight jeans ripped expertly at the knees teamed with a white tank top and black fitted blazer.

She looked gorgeous.

"I know," she joked, spooning cornflakes into her delicious mouth. My lower stomach clenched at the sight.

"Mom I've got cheerleading after school today," I yawned, lifting my cup and bowl from the table suddenly eager to distance myself from the Latina.

"Oh hun you'll have to skip it today. Santana would have to walk home on her own," she replied nonchalantly never meeting my gaze.

"MOM, I can't just skip it for fuck's sake," I growled.

"Watch your language Brittany," she retorted her eyes finally locking with mine.

"Santana isn't familiar enough with the area and we can't let her make her own way home. Stop thinking about you please," she concluded sharply.

I bite back the reply threatening to spill from my pursed lips.

Santana shifted slightly, her body meeting mine as I felt her hand link with my own beneath the table.

She rubbed light circles on my palm and I instantly felt my annoyance dissipate.

"I'll stay and watch. I want to see what this one can do," Santana offered smiling at me through her entire suggestion.

"Oh…Well that's settled then. You can thank Santana for thinking of others Brittany," my mother replied sharply before leading my brother out of the room.

I felt my anger return, bubbling up from the pit of my core.

"So cheerleading practice after school? I'm living the American dream," Sanatana joked playfully ,the mood in the room lifting immediately as I glanced down at her fingers still laced tightly with mine.

I smiled back as the tingling sensation in my stomach grew steadily.

"Thanks San," I whispered.

She nudged my cheek with her forehead playfully. "You don't have to if you don't want to. I can just skip," I concluded.

"No way, I want to see what your made of, " she answered quickly, her lips forming a sensual grin as her eyes burned into mine.

"Well...Okay then, but get ready to be amazed by my awesomeness," I bantered back as a warm flood of happiness spilled through my body.

"Hey Quinn this is Santana. Remember? I was telling you about her."

Santana's eyes locked with mine as her fears from the previous night bubbled to the surface instantly. I shook my head slowly and subtly trying desperately to communicate through my eyes.

"Did she actually think I'd sell her out like that?" I thought silently.

Realisation dawned and she relaxed slightly offering me a small smile as an apology.

Relief coursed through me as I rolled my eyes playfully at the smirking Latina. Quinn was completely oblivious to our exchanges.

"Yeah, I remember Britt; she's one of your mom's work things right? Little old to be in your grade!"  
The blonde spoke nonchalantly as she stared the Latina up and down before rapidly losing interest and turning back to face me.

"All set for practice after school right?" It wasn't a question.

"Yeah, Quinn. Of course," I replied opening my locker slowly.

"Ok well see you then," she concluded, offering Santana one more death stare before turning abruptly causing her skirt to ride up, revealing an unholy amount of skin.

"Oh and don't be late Britt," she shouted back the patronizing tone annoyingly evident in her voice.

"Okay so we've got math first and then..." I stopped hastily when I noticed Santana's demeanor.

She was staring at me dumbfounded, her eyes wide with confusion.

"What is it?" I asked genuinely confused by her reaction.

"Brittany, what the fuck just happened?" she asked, her eyes slanting slightly.

"What do you mean San? Um ...that was Quinn. She's a grade ahead of me. She's the cheerleading captain. I'm pretty sure I mentioned her... "I replied, thoroughly confused by Santana's questions.

"I know who the bitch is Brittany...I meant 'Your mom's WORK THING?'" she bit back folding her arms  
across her chest.

"Shit," I muttered as realisation dawned.

"Way to back me up Britt. Thanks for that," she sighed leaning against the lockers her gaze bypassing me completely as she searched the empty halls.

"Shit San…I..shit!" I gasped abandoning my open locker and positioning my body directly in front of the scowling girl.

"It's just...fucking Quinn!, She's on my case a lot with cheerleading, and she's captain so I kind of have to keep her sweet you know," I explained quietly searching the dark brown orbs staring back at me for any sign of emotion.

I reached out lacing my fingers with hers. My bottom lip jutted outwards as my eyes screamed silent apologies.

"So much for kicking everyone's ass" she retorted, before finally allowing the giggle to escape from her lips.

"Bitch," I cried swatting her shoulder softly and pulling her into a tight embrace.

"You're a regular badass, Britt," she joked returning my hug and squeezing my hips softly.

"The baddest bitch in these halls," I replied unwillingly pulling myself from her embrace.

"Um...The halls are empty Britt," she laughed her eyebrow rising slightly.

"That's irrelevant," I smiled, relieved our altercation with Quinn was seemingly forgotten.

"Okay? Okay…deep breaths; we're going in," she spoke dramatically, blessing herself twice before grabbing my hand and pulling me towards our destination.

"Weirdo," I laughed warmly allowing myself to be dragged towards the noisy classroom.

It was nearing the end of Santana's first week. After her initial classes on Monday the majority of the student body had quickly lost interest in the fresh meat.

Unfortunately and much to my growing annoyance some members of the football team had developed a slight obsession with the Latina.

"Hola chica!...ME GUSTA MUCHOOOO" they'd shout as she walked the halls.

At first Santana had tensed and blushed profusely at the unwanted attention as her arm clung to mine desperately. She had kept her face expressionless as they hooted and hollered at her.

However, and much to my dismay, as time passed she held her head higher and would occasionally offer a slight smirk or raised eyebrow in their direction.

This only served to send the hormone fuelled idiots into sexual hysteria as calls and whistles followed her down the halls.

The loudest of them all was that prick Noah Puckerman.

My stomach clenched painfully as she smirked back knowingly.

We spent most of our free time together, giggling and whispering into each other's hairs like we 'd just discovered the hidden meaning of life.

I'd had friends before Santana came to McKinley, but nothing as intense as the relationship I shared with the Latina.

We were in our own metaphorical bubble; me and her against the world. I know that sounds so fucking cliché, but that's how I felt at the time.

Santana wasn't exactly a social butterfly, but she was cordial to her fellow students and those that had exchanged pleasantries with her respected her.

She had settled into a routine quickly and my concern for her emotional wellbeing abated slowly.

To my secret delight Santana had become a permanent fixture at my cheerleading practices since that first day.

She'd sit in the stands watching me intently, her face in her palms and her gaze never leaving me.

"Oh look Britt it's your girlfriend," one of the seniors teased, her eyes drifting to the Latina sitting in the stands.

"What...she's not..." I spluttered my face turning red.

"Less talking Lea," Quinn snapped, silencing the older girl immediately.

I stared at Quinn hoping my blush had subsided and smiled gratefully, thankful for the interruption.

She stared at me briefly before nodding and moving away.

"Now, its glee time!" I exclaimed dramatically.

"Show choir? Really Britt?" Santana asked, mocking me playfully.

"It's fun San! You'll like it...I want you to come," I replied my lip jutting forward slightly.

I'd come to learn that Santana rarely said no to me when I displayed the pouting gesture.

"Fine!" she shouted in mock anger, trailing behind me as I walked towards the choir room.

"Hey Brittany," Mr Shue greeted, his eyes falling to the girl standing behind me. Santana collided with my back as I stopped abruptly.

"Who's this?" he questioned warmly, directing his gaze to the older girl.

"This is Santana. She's new here," I said, smiling proudly and moving slightly aside to showcase the girl hidden behind me.

"Great!" he enthused. "Were always happy to add new members," he beamed.

"Oh no! I won't be joining. I'm just here with Britt...to watch," Santana spoke matter of factly.

"Oh I see" he smiled softly."Well were always happy to have an audience right guys?" he gestured towards the dozen or so people sitting quietly staring intently at the new addition.

"Yes... we... are."

I turned my head towards the voice my gaze settling on a grinning Noah Puckerman.

"Fuck!" I screamed internally. I'd totally forgotten the meat head had recently joined.

I averted my gaze to the Latina who was staring at the boy, grinning slightly; amusement evident in her eyes.

My heart ached painfully at the sight.

"Okay well, let's get started. Take a seat girls," Mr Shue offered happily.

We took the two free seats in the back row, which also happened to seat Noah.

"Fan-fucking-tastic," I sighed silently.

Mr Shue rambled on as I attempted to focus my attention. My eyes were trained on Santana and Noah, watching their interactions carefully.

Puck was grinning unashamedly at Santana while she pretended not to notice, with a slight smile playing on her lips.

"Hey baby," he grinned leaning forward careful not to catch Mr Shue's attention.

"Me and you should get together some time," he said, smirking as his eyes locked with the Latina's.

"I'm Puck, but I'm guessing you already know that. If not, ask around. I'm kind of a big deal," he proclaimed, grinning and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Isn't that right Blondie?" he questioned, his eyes leaving the Latina for the first time since we entered.

"It's Brittany," I hissed.

The similarities between Santana and Puck were not sitting well in my mind.

I held my breath bracing myself for Santana's reaction.

"In your dreams...baby!" she answered with a slight smile forming on her lips.

"Oh feisty...Me gusta," he laughed, leaning back into his chair.

"Noah, less talking please," Mr Shue sighed.

My affection for the older man grew immensely as the visibly annoyed footballer grumbled audibly before settling back in his seat and focusing his attention on the teacher.

Relief washed over me. The exchange between the two had left a bitter and unfamiliar feeling lingering in my stomach.

The next few weeks passed without any significant incidents. Santana was continuing to settle in and I was finding it increasingly hard to recall my existence before her.

Home life was comfortable with my mother continuously preoccupied with work and my brother investing his time in after school activities. Santana and I more often than not found ourselves alone in the house.

We never did anything outlandish; just simple things like watching TV or discussing our fellow students. We were so at ease in one another's company; never afraid of judgment.

These were the times I cherished; just me and her. No interruptions, no audience and no Noah Puckerman.

He had yet to cease in his quest for the Latina and if I was being totally honest, his unwavering persistence was pissing me off.

Santana didn't seem affected by any of it. She rarely mentioned him outside of glee and she continuously shot him down, matching his banter word for word.

She never gave me reason to believe she would go there with him, but watching their interactions left an ache in my chest.

They were so similar it killed me.

"Britt, I won't be at your practice after school," Santana spoke hurriedly, causing me to stop rummaging through my locker and stare at her expectantly.

"Oh...is my mom picking you up?" I questioned turning my attention back to the metal box.

"Ummmm...no actually...Erm, Puck's taking me for something to eat after school. To some place called 'Breadstix'…" the Latina concluded, her eyes focused on the floor as she shifted nervously from one foot to another.

My body stiffened and my breathing became eerily slow. I clutched the locker door, attempting to steady myself.

"Oh..." was all I managed as the familiar sting began in my eyes.

"I know he's annoying, but he's been so fucking relentless. I had to give him kudos," she said smiling softly, clearly oblivious to my current state.

"Yeah ...Umm, cool! Have a great time!" I managed to squeak out, my eyes finally meeting hers as I offered her the most convincing smile I could manage.

"Thanks Britt," she beamed leaning forward and pulling my body into hers. She lingered for a moment before placing a fleeting kiss on my cheek her lips brushing the corner of my mouth.

"I'll meet you back at the house. Jersey Shore tonight!" she yelled as she took off down the empty hallway.

When I was sure she was out of sight I allowed my body to slam against the cold metal lockers, sliding down slowly until my body collided with the floor.

I placed my hand reverently on my cheek where her perfect lips had lingered just seconds before.

I sat like that for what felt like hours. I was not going to cry; a declaration which was aided by the complete feeling of utter numbness that had invaded my body.

Surely she shouldn't be in a relationship with anyone. It was too soon; she wasn't ready. I sighed inwardly at the realisation that none of these elements were the source of my pain.

"I have no right to care so much. She's not mine. She can see who she wants!"

I repeated the mantra in my head over and over again willing my mind to accept it.

Eventually, I managed to drag my aching body from the hard floor before dragging towards the changing rooms.

"Britt, are you with us…? Hello?" Quinn snapped wrenching me from my thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm here," I replied slowly.

"Focus Brittany, you're one of our best. No slacking," she added firmly before turning away to shout at a clumsy freshman.

"Sad because your girlfriend isn't here to cheer you on Blondie?" Lea whispered wickedly, ensuring Quinn didn't hear the exchange.

"Fuck you," I growled turning away to continue my stretching.

"I was kidding Britt" the older girl replied clearly shocked by my vicious outburst.

"Sorry, I'm a little stressed ...with school stuff," I lied averting my eyes and hoping the senior believed my story.

"Whatever. It's fine," she replied flippantly before making her way over to a cluster of gossiping girls.

"Pyramids Bitches," Quinn shouted from across the field, and I desperately tried to shake the vivid images swirling around my mind.

"_Puck's hands grabbing her perfect skin roughly. His hard mouth attached to hers. His hands clawing at her chest."_

I could feel the bile rising up my throat and my head felt dizzy and light.

"Britt, straighten up," Quinn screamed, bringing me back down to earth .

I shook away the painful thoughts, willing my wandering mind to focus, before realising I was too late.

I was falling rapidly, the ground rising up to meet me at a sickening pace. Terror and adrenaline ripped through my body.

"Catch her you fucking morons!"

Quinn's voice sounded so far away.

I was nearing the ground as a knee cap collided with my face.

I heard the sickening crunch and then I saw stars...and her.

TBC

REVIEW ITS GOOD FOR THE SOUL :)


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:Hey guys I wrote this chapter,than I rewrote it and then I rewrote it finally happy with it and I hope you guys enjoy it and thanks so much for all the reviews and alerts. They warm my heart hehe :)**

Edited by:"theveiledfairy"(Big thanks to her:) )

"_No love, no friendship, can cross the path of our destiny without leaving some mark on it forever"-Francois Mauriac_

**Brittany's POV**

"Quinn, I'm fine...seriously!" I tried to soften the harshness lacing my voice.

"You don't look fine Britt! You can't cheer next week looking like that," she shot back.

I sighed audibly.

I should have known from experience that Quinn's concern was merely skin deep.

"I'll cover it with make-up okay! I'll sort it out," I replied, wincing visibly due to the throbbing pain currently coursing viciously through the left side of my swollen face.

Quinn's gaze settled on mine. Her eyes softened as the smallest fragment of concern appeared in her hazel eyes.

"Does it hurt?" she asked her soft tone foreign to my ears.

I attempted to smile, ignoring the jolt of pain it produced.

"Yeah, it does," I answered softly.

"But I'll be fine," I concluded.

She offered me a small smile, a rarity when it came to Quinn Fabray.

"I called your mom.

She's on her way. I told her the nurse has examined you and nothing's broken, so I guess you just need to rest and stuff," she explained reaching down to retrieve her gym bag.

"I've got to go Brittany. I'm helping a friend study," she concluded lazily, her gaze hesitantly meeting mine.

I nodded slowly careful not to awaken a fresh onslaught of pain.

"Thanks for waiting with me," I offered weakly.

"Its fine," she replied quickly as she swung her bag over her shoulders, exiting the nurses office swiftly.

"Don't forget to ice the shit out of it Britt," She yelled back.

I sighed and leaned back on the cold sterile bed, my eyes closing automatically as my head reached the hard pillow.

I never fall, I thought silently.

Years of cheerleading, dance, and gymnastics and I've never fallen once.

The increasing pain in my cheekbone and upper jaw caused a low groan to escape my lips wrenching me from my thoughts.

I sat up suddenly, the rapid movement evoking a fresh wave of pain to roll across my face.

My head swam as I adjusted to the new sitting position.

I stared intently at my reflection in the rectangular mirror hanging ominously from the opposing wall.

My left eye socket was beginning to blacken violently.

The corner of my lip was split and dried splotches of blood were crusting at the corner.

My cheekbone was red and swollen, the onset of bruising clearly imminent.

I attempted a smile at the battered face staring back.

"Who knew a freshman's kneecap could do so much damage?" I thought to myself.

I cupped my cheek slowly, slightly disgusted by the spongy feeling of my swollen features.

"Fuck," I growled, as my new self loathing built steadily.

The realisation that I had no one to blame for my current predicament but myself hit home.

Raised voices were a welcome distraction from my bout of self pity.

I craned my neck trying to identify the muffled sounds.

"Is she okay? Where is she? How did this happen?" My mother's voice became clear as rapid footsteps approached the small room I currently occupied.

My mother appeared in the doorway her face clouded with concern.

"Britt what happened?...Oh my...your poor face!" She gasped her eyes scanning my injuries, a look of sheer horror distorting her worn features.

"Oh my baby!" she cried, rushing to my side and enveloping me in a desperate hug.

My body stiffened slightly.

The shock subsided gradually as I hesitantly allowed myself to melt into the unfamiliar embrace.

"How the hell did this happen?" she whispered questioningly as she slowly detached herself from my body.

Her eyes searched mine frantically.

"I just fell mom...it happens," I replied hesitantly.

I fidgeted nervously suddenly aware of her intense gaze.

"You...You never fall Britt," she answered slowly, her eyes still scanning my distorted features.

"Yeah,well… I did okay?" I bit back, annoyed that her thoughts mirrored my own.

"Okay," she spoke slowly, her hand clasping mine.

"The nurse said you should be fine; it's just bruising really," she mused as she gently moved a lock of hair behind my ear her hand lingering on my swollen cheek.

"We have to keep an eye on you for the next twenty four hours. You blacked out Britt."

"Yeah," I replied softly, glad she had moved on from the actual subject of me falling.

I knew why I'd slipped, I just wasn't ready to deal with the consequences of my enlightenment.

"Let's get you home Britt! I have to collect Cory from his friend's house and run some errands, but I'll drop you off first," she spoke firmly as she retrieved my various belongings from the bottom of the bed.

"Where's Santana? I presumed she'd be here with you! You're joined at the hip most days!" she smiled as she swung my bag over her shoulders.

I hesitated, a fresh wave of hurt gripping my body as an entirely different pain erupted abruptly from my core.

"She's...She's with a friend," I stuttered my eyes leaving my mother's quickly and settling on my fiercely clasped hands.

"Oh I see? What friend is this then?" my mother questioned, her eyes trained on me as I slowly descended from the bed.

"A boy," I answered quickly, hoping the sadness which engulfed my body had somehow evaded the tone of my voice.

"Oh...that's nice! So, who is this boy?" My mother asked, amusement dancing across her face.

"He's just some guy," I shrugged.

"Don't you think it's a little soon for Santana to be...doing stuff like that," I asked, hoping my mother would see sense and protect my heart in the process.

"Of course not honey! Normal teenage experiences are essential to Santana right now," she replied as we exited the school's main doors.

"Normal?" I swallowed silently, as an unfamiliar feeling of despair swept through my body.

"Will you be okay by yourself?" my mother questioned, with actual concern present in her voice.

"Yeah, I'll be fine Mom. I'm not dying, but If I get the urge to suddenly keel over, I'll be sure let you know," I replied, sarcasm evident in my voice.

"Not funny Britt! If you need anything call me! I'll be two hours, tops! Santana should be home soon anyway."

I heard the front door slam as I edged my way deeper into the comfort of the couch.

My gaze settled on the large antique clock hanging from the wall. 5:50.

Santana should be home by now I thought bitterly.

I diverted my attention to the flat screen in the center of the room as I began flicking through the channels aimlessly.

It was my own desperate and slightly pathetic attempt at stopping my mind from wandering to her.

Halfway into my second episode of "Teen Mom" the front door rattled open.

"Britt," Santanas voice called.

I flipped my body over automatically, curling further into the couch and shielding my face in the process.

"Britt? Hello? Where the hell are you?" she chimed.

Her footsteps became louder and my entire body tensed.

"There you are! Umm, hello? Did you hear me calling?" she spoke breathlessly.

The obvious excitement radiating from her tone caused my chest to ache and my body to tunnel further into the couch.

"Hey," I spoke slowly forcing my voice to hold a steady pitch.

"How was your date?" I continued quietly, my voice slightly muffled by the fabric I was pinned against.

"It was...it was good. Britt, Oh my god! Breadsticks is amazing," she laughed.

"That's good" I replied softly.

Silence followed.

"So do you...do you like Puck?" I asked, my voice harsher than I had ever intended.

"What?" she giggled, finally taking in my awkward positioning on the couch.  
"Why are you humping the couch Britt? Look at me," she continued, amusement evident in her voice.

I stayed silent.

"Britt, what's wrong? Is it Puck? I know that you're not exactly besties, but..."

"But what..? I questioned fiercely, cutting her off.

"Britt...will you at least look at me please?" her voice sounded whiny, almost needy, even to me.

I refused to turn and meet her gaze.

I knew any courage I was currently harboring would dissipate the moment her sullen eyes locked with mine.

Without turning to face her I spoke, "You're way to good for him San. He's a fucking asshole! He tries to get it on with everyone and then tells the whole school about it afterwards. It's so wrong, and I don't want to see that happen to you!"

I cringed inwardly as regret and shame flooded my body.

"I'm a fucking hypocrite," I thought bitterly.

"I missed you at practice," I admitted softly startling even myself by the rapid revelation.

I inhaled deeply before continuing, " I don't want him to take you away from me, and I know I sound like a fucking twelve year old and you probably think I'm so fucking immature and weird for wanting you all to myself…Maybe I am, but that's how I feel," I concluded, as my voice wavered slightly under the weight of my emotions..

I'm sure her eyes were currently clouded with confusion.

"Sorry," I whispered, regretting my outburst immediately.

I felt the couch dip as her body settled beside mine, her chest pressed flush against my back and her smooth arms encircling my waist.

"Britt, you'll always be my best friend. You're so special to me. You have to know that!" she cooed softly and suddenly, startling us both.

"Puck's... He's a guy Britt. You're my best friend and he's...a guy. It's two completely different relationships."

I tried to control my breathing as her admission sliced through me. I had no right to feel like this; everything she had said was true.

"I'm just her friend; nothing more," I accepted quietly.

"Yeah, I know. I'm being stupid," I offered halfheartedly.

"You're...You're always my favorite," she whispered, slight embarrassment evident in her voice.

She hated discussing feelings or emotions of any kind so I knew how hard this little admission had been for her.

Warmth flooded through my body as her confession lingered over us cuddled up on the couch.

Maybe it would be enough.

I slowly allowed myself to relax into her embrace as she settled her head upon my shoulder as her breathing once again synched poetically with my own.

"I know," I answered, allowing a soft chuckle to escape my bruised lips.

"Good. Because you are," she said, her tone turning serious.

"I know," I replied softly; the seriousness of my tone matching hers.

A comfortable silence engulfed us as we lay on the couch, with her warm body pressed against mine and her soft arms encircling my slim waist as her caramel legs tangled with my own.

"Why does she make it so hard?" I sighed, internally.

I was beginning to drift off, when she spoke again.

"We have to go to Breadsticks, like ASAP," she mused, her hot breath tickling the skin on my shoulder.

"I agree," I snorted, highly amused by her new found obsession.

"What will we eat?" she continued, clearly analysing the possibilities in her mind.

I giggled loudly as I turned my body, excitement seizing me momentarily and causing me to completely forget about the battered face that I had been expertly concealing from the Latina.

I twisted my body and she maintained her tight grip around my waist.

I laughed lowly as our foreheads bumped together softly.

"Ooooh, we could have..." I stopped speaking instantly as Santana's eyes widened and her mouth gaped open in shock.

"Shit," I sighed, realisation dawning.  
Her mouth remained open as she scanned my features slowly until her gaze finally settled on my eyes.

Her grip tightened automatically.

"What the fuck Britt? What happened? Who did this?" she pleaded her voice wrought with emotion and cracking slightly at the end.

I was completely taken back by her reaction.

I'd expected shock or maybe slight disgust but nothing like this.

Why would she instantly think "someone" had done this.

My instant realisation was painful to say the least.

I cringed inwardly understanding the painful memories my current physical state might evoke from the girl.

"Its fine San," I answered rapidly trying to abolish the distressed look framing her face.

"It's not fucking fine Britt, what the fuck happened?" she shrieked her eyes beginning to water.

Her unexpected display of such raw emotion left me startled.

"San, calm down" I spoke firmly cupping her face gently.

Her eyes searched mine desperately.

"I fell off the pyramid at practice…I guess you were right," I added, smiling softly as I desperately tried to ease the thick tension engulfing us.

Santana winced and I quickly realised my poor attempt at humor was inappropriate for this situation.

Fresh tears rolled from the Latina's dark eyes.

"San. San, don't cry," I pleaded, feeling my own eyes beginning to water as well.

"I'm fine. Honest. Look," I flashed her a toothy grin hoping to convince the distressed girl of my wellbeing.

Her grip around my waist tightened as her eyes locked with mine.

"Are you lying to me Britt? If someone did this to you I want to know now!"she spoke firmly wiping furiously at her wet cheeks.

"San...I fell at practice that's it," I reassured. " I was just clumsy; it was my own fault."

"Promise me. Promise me Brittany that you would tell me if anyone ever hurt you, "she whimpered.

"San I just fell. It's nothing like tha-"

"Promise me!" she interrupted her eyes burning into mine.

I stared at the Latina intently.

"I promise," I whispered surprised by the overwhelming emotions that seized my body.

She relaxed significantly obviously satisfied with my response.

"Does it hurt?" she whispered, her left hand leaving my waist and coming to rest gently on my swollen cheek.

"Nope," I chuckled wincing slightly.

"Britt?" she spoke raising her eyebrow questioningly.

"Yes," I answered truthfully, my breath hitching slightly as the pads of her fingers ghosted over my slightly swollen lips.

Her eyes never left mine as she continued with her gentle touches.

"It's my fault," she whispered, her eyes leaving mine for the first time and coming to rest on the wall above our heads.

"What?" I exclaimed.

"I should have been there," she explained softly.

"It's your first practice I've missed and this happens. It's hardly a fucking coincidence Britt," she replied bitterly.

I grabbed her face softly forcing her eyes to lock with my own again.

I rested my forehead on hers, as my arms encircled her tiny waist possessively.

My eyes stayed on hers as I moved forward slowly until my lips were a hair's width away from hers and our noses touched gently.

Her breath hitched as she relaxed into my embrace.

Her eyes expressed a flurry of surprise, hesitation and, even though I didn't recognize it then, arousal.

A slight blush had spread across her perfect features and I was secretly delighted by the visible effect I had on the older girl.

"It had nothing to do with you San, I misjudged my movements; no mystery there."

I spoke slowly and her breath mingled with mine.

"Okay?" I questioned attempting to raise my eyebrow like her.

We lay like that entwined as one and a comfortable silence settled over us like a winter fog.

"Did you kiss Puck?" I asked abruptly.

I'd been anxious to ask the girl, but I was nervous she'd think I was being weird or nosy.

She pulled back from my neck and her eyes met mine as she studied my face silently; her eyes were expressionless.

"Yes," she finally answered as her eyes continued searching mine.

"Oh..." I squeaked, desperately trying to relax my now stone like body.

"Did you like it," I whispered, nothing but my masochistic curiosity urging me forward.

"Yes," she replied softly, her eyes leaving mine momentarily.

"That's good," I lied too devastated to add any more.

I tried to relax into her embrace, but her once warm and soothing touches felt cold and emotionless.

I untangled my body from hers; our current intimate position feeling alien and wrong.

I clambered from the couch hastily, muttering something about painkillers as I exited quickly, leaving a rather dumbfounded Santana in my wake.

I entered the empty kitchen, my relief resonating in the silence.

A variety of emotions coursed through my body as I opened the fridge, carefully retrieving a bottle of chilled water.

I swallowed two painkillers, grateful for the numbing relief they would bring.

I rested my hands on the wooden work top, gazing absentmindedly out the large window.

I heard the fridge door opening, but I forced myself to remain stoic.

I glanced down at the warm hand now covering my own.

"I got you some ice," she whispered hesitantly.

I inhaled deeply and turned my body to face hers, with a small smile gracing my lips.

"It's not her fault you have some weird obsession with her!" I scolded silently.

"Thanks San."

Her eyes focused on mine as she carefully placed the ice pack on my swollen cheek.

I winced as the cold object made contact.

"Are you okay?" she asked lowly, her question loaded with hidden meanings.

As I stared into her dark pools, I realised Santana was not responsible for my confusion or my feelings.

I had to deal with them myself and being angry and bitter towards the girl when she was primarily innocent in this whole debacle was not fair on her.

I had regularly scrutinized and analysed our relationship in my own mind, and as a result I had unknowingly allowed myself to concoct a mutual attraction that was clearly absent.

"Yeah," I replied offering her a genuine smile.

"Promise?" she whispered as her hand laced with mine.

"Yes," I answered truthfully, squeezing her wrist.

Her free hand curled around my lower waist while the other held the ice pack gently in place.

"I ...I can't stand seeing you like this," she confessed, her eyes laced with concern and regret.

"I know," I answered resting my forehead on hers as the ice pack was discarded.

She held my gaze.

"I ...I wanted to ask you something Britt," she sighed edging her face away from mine.

"And I want you to know that you don't have to do this. Feel free to say no okay!"

"Just ask me San," I replied curiously.

"Well, your mom wants me to go to this...to this thing next week. It's for people...It's for victims of abuse...well sexual abuse. And we're allowed bring one person, and well I was wondering if you'd come with me? If you're uncomfortable its fine! I can ask your mom, but I wanted to ask you..."

She blurted out the sentence so fast, that I had to strain to understand some of the words.

"Of course I will," I declared without hesitation.

Santana's face flooded with relief.

"Are you sure Britt? Because I will have to talk about you know...that stuff, and you're still young… I know you're super mature, but I just want to make sure you could handle it. I'd be so happy if you came! I kinda think I need you there…" she spoke rapidly, her eyes meeting mine.

"I'll go," I answered firmly, my eyes locking with hers as I nodded rapidly.

"Thanks," she whispered in a voice uncharacteristically small for the fiery Latina.

I circled my own arms around her waist pulling her impossibly close.

She smiled at me softly before leaning forward and placing a soft gentle kiss to my blackened eye.

I closed my eyes on contact, reveling in the feeling of her soft lips on my skin.

She continued to my cheekbone, her lips lingering on the swollen skin.

She pulled back momentarily as our eyes met, before she leaned forward and placed her lips on mine.

I melted into the kiss, as her lips moved familiar and warm against my own.

Neither of us deepened the kiss.

She slowly pulled back, her soft lips leaving mine as she whispered, "I love you Brittany".

There was so much emotion in her confession that it caused me to feel slightly weak at the knees.

"I love you too," I replied, and I knew my tone conveyed similar emotions.

"You're my best friend Britt," she smiled softly as she laced our fingers once more.

I couldn't help but notice the way she'd slightly emphasized the word "friend."

I'm not even sure if she was aware she'd done it.

I didn't know if she meant it to convince me or herself.

"Do all best friends kiss each other on the mouth?" I wondered.

I'd never had a friend like her, so I had no idea what the protocol was for these things.

Although the thought of her lips being attacked by Noah Puckerman's mere hours before shot a pain through my being that I had never encountered, if this is the way I could have her, I decided, for the time being, it would do.

"I know" I replied softly..."I know".

TBC

The review button is magic :)


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Still don't own glee :(

**A/N: Big thanks to my beta "theveiledfairy"!Omg over 100 reviews, seriously never expected that. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter it will be one of the darker ones. If you dont feel comfortable reading this particular chapter message me and I will be happy to summarize it for you!**

**WARNING CONTAINS DISCUSSIONS OF SEXUAL ABUSE. IF THIS IS A TRIGGER FOR YOU DO NOT READ . APPROACH WITH CAUTION**

_Nothing compares, _  
_No worries or cares, _  
_Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made, _  
_Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?_-Adele

**Brittanys POV**

I watched carefully as the disheveled Latina fidgeted nervously in her plastic chair. The otherwise empty waiting room was painted an eggshell grey, while various posters splattered the opposing walls.

I scrutinized their messages hungrily and intently, hoping to somehow prepare myself mentally for what I was about to witness.

"The feeling of being overwhelmed as a child can lead to 'splitting.' It's as if the child breaks into two parts mentally."

The bold sentence sprang from the pages as I shuddered visibly at the magnitude of the situation.

I had without hesitation agreed to accompany Santana to this "session" and I refused to regret my rapid decision even as waves of nervousness erupted steadily from within.

Since then, I had pushed this day to the back of my mind, never allowing myself to linger on its consequences for more than a moment.

After asking me to accompany her, Santana had failed to mention the subject again.

The fact that I was actually sitting here waiting, caused the reality and seriousness of the situation to come crashing down on me and it was becoming uncomfortably overwhelming.

I concentrated on steadying my breathing as I chanced a glance at the subdued Latina.

She had remained silent for most of the morning, only speaking when absolutely necessary.

The drive here had been thick with an unfamiliar tension as my mother had remained similarly silent, this only fueled my current nervous disposition.

My knee bounced rapidly as I chewed on my nails manically.

Santana turned her tan face slowly, her dark eyes meeting mine hesitantly.

I offered a small smile suddenly unsure of how to approach the girl and she smiled back, but it failed to reach her dark eyes.

My heart clenched painfully as I attempted to somehow comprehend what she must be going through. I wanted to hug her or hold her but I needed to ensure she was comfortable before initiating any contact.

"Britt," she sighed slowly and hesitantly.

I turned my face to hers and her sorrowful eyes met my gaze.

"Maybe this wasn't a good idea."

I hesitated, feeling completely out of my league.

"Do you want me to wait here?" I asked softly.

She turned her face away, her eyes resting on the opposite wall.

She was momentarily silent, her eyes scrunched slightly and her nose pinched, as she appeared to be deep in thought.

"No," she spoke finally.

"I want you there...I need you...with me."

I released a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding and automatically laced her soft tan fingers with my own.

"If that's still okay with you?" she whispered in a voice so small and fragile that it hardly sounded like hers.

"Of course" I replied squeezing her hand in confirmation and ignoring the apprehension building in my gut.

An empty silence settled as both of us were ravaged by our inner thoughts.

"Santana Lopez."

My head jerked upwards as the unfamiliar voice reached my ears. Santana's reaction had been so similarly timed with my own that it would have been humorous under any other circumstance.

"Yes," I answered when Santana remained silent. I'd hoped my voice hadn't betrayed the barrage of emotions currently coursing through my body.

The middle aged slightly plump woman smiled softly as she gently beckoned us into the room.

My legs felt heavy as I stared at the ominous door the woman had quickly disappeared behind, leaving us alone again.

I forced my hesitant body to stand, and kept my hand still clasped with hers.

I was met with resistance as Santana remained rooted to her chair.

"I can't," she whispered, her voice cracking as she refused to meet my eyes.

My heart clenched violently in my chest as my gaze rested on the broken Latina.  
I dropped to my knees, slowly positioning myself in front of the now sobbing girl.

Her shoulders shook softly as her head remained downturned, her gaze burning a hole in the wooden floor.

I shifted slightly, settling myself between her legs and gently cupped her cheek to raise her eyes to meet mine.

Her eyes were glossy, and confusion and fear radiated from their depths.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to San. My mom can reschedule. I can't even imagine what you're going through right now and seeing you like this is so...it's really hard," I whispered, wary that the plump woman could reappear at any moment.

She nodded her head sniffing softly.

Her eyes locked with mine and we remained like that, prisoners in each other's gaze, silently communicating unspoken thoughts.

"No...No I'm good. I have to...I have to do this," she said finally breaking our gaze. Her voice was surprisingly strong and steady.

"I'm ...I'm ready."  
I lifted myself from my now aching knees, smiling warmly at the seated girl.

She lifted herself from the plastic chair before launching herself at me and wrapping her warm body around my own.

"Thank you for coming Britt. Thank you so much," she whispered her eyes portraying waves of gratitude.

"Of course," I answered, blushing slightly under her intense gaze.

Her hand found mine as we approached the closed door and the sudden realization that our relationship was about to change forever hit me hard.

"Ready?" she asked, her hand clasping mine tightly.

"Yeah," I breathed, realizing I was anything but.

/

"Hello, girls. Take a seat."

I was surprised to find that the plump woman I had mistaken for a secretary was now in fact seated behind a large maple desk.

Her clasped hands rested on the wooden desk as a genuine smile framed her worn face.

Santana's hand reluctantly left mine while she sat slowly, as her eyes darted around the medium sized room cautiously.

The woman witnessed the exchange and smiled gently, her eyes trained on the Latina.

I took my seat carefully a wave of nausea crashing through my body.

"Santana, I'm Caroline. Very nice to meet you," the woman spoke softly yet firmly, her eyes radiating warmth and comfort.

Santana's head jerked upwards as she was addressed. She resembled a frightened child and my heart pounded painfully as my eyes desperately sought hers.

She inhaled deeply forcing her eyes to meet those of the waiting woman.

"Yeah, nice to meet you too...I quess," she shrugged uncertainly.

The woman nodded slowly in understanding.

A small silence followed as Santana shifted uncomfortably her hands clasped around the chair's steel arms causing her knuckles to turn an unnatural shade of white.

I resisted the urge to reach out and touch her.

"Who's this then?" the woman motioned towards me with a small smile gracing her warm features.

Santana appeared to relax slightly.

"Brittany. Dianne's daughter."

Again, the woman nodded slowly, carefully taking in all the information Santana was offering.

"And you two are friends?" she asked kindly, trying to draw more details from the subdued Latina.

I remained silent aware the questions were directed solely at Santana.

"Yeah, we're friends," Santana shrugged. I bit my lip softly, slightly confused by her somewhat negative tone.  
I silently reprimanded myself for being so fucking selfish.

Caroline's eyes left Santana momentarily as she offered me an acknowledging smile. I forced myself to return the gesture.

"How's school?" she asked, switching direction completely.

"It's good," the Latina answered offering no further details.

"Are you settling in okay?"

"Yes," Santana answered rolling her eyes slightly. I buried the small bubble of anger emitting form my core.

"Why is she being like this? Doesnt she want fucking help?" I thought.

I sighed internally my growing frustration and confusion causing me to zone out momentarily.

"That's good to hear Santana," the woman replied. The cheery tone of her voice contrasted with the atmosphere resonating in the room.

Santana shrugged by way of reply moving her gaze to the wall on her right.

Caroline unclasped her hands as her gaze remained trained on the brunette.

"How about a boyfriend? Anyone special in your life?"

"Not really, ...I'm kinda seeing this guy," Santana replied nonchalantly.

"What's he like?"

I tensed in my seat, willing my ears to stop functioning if only momentarily; ignorance is bliss and all that.

"He's...He plays football. He's a senior and he's hot," Santana shrugged, clearly bored by the barrage of questions.

"Have you slept together?"

I froze. I knew Santana was still hanging around with Puck, but weirdly Santana never mentioned him around me.

I was happy to frolic in my naivety and I was not ready to deal with the consequences of the Latina's reply.

"What has that to do with anything, and how is it even your business?" the latina fired back, obviously uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken.

"You don't have to answer any questions that make you feel uncomfortable Santana," the woman replied, completely unfazed by the Latina's outburst.

I shifted in my chair my head swimming with thoughts of Santana and Puck.

"They're having sex," I mused, horrified by the thought. Nausea gripped me as the realization hit.

"Of course they are, this is fucking Puck were talking about." I swallowed the bile travelling up my throat.

"You have to stop this," I sighed berating myself silently.

"Santana can do what she wants. Why the fuck do you care so much anyway?"

"What do you remember about growing up Santana?" The woman's question tore me from my daze as I gulped nervously.

Santana's entire body tensed and her mouth opened slowly before closing again.

"Hey Arnold…The Rugrats," she shrugged.

Caroline's smile never faltered.

"What about your home life? Can you tell me about that?"

Santana's eyes darkened.

"What do you want to know?" she asked. The bitterness lacing her voice was unmistakable.

"Let's start with your mom. If that's okay with you…" the woman replied .

Santana's gazed rested on the wall and she chuckled darkly.

"My 'mom?' ...Oh where to start? I was six the first time she overdosed. I was eight the first time one of them hit me. I was nine the first time I walked in on her fucking her pimp. I was eleven the first time she left me alone for days, and I was twelve the first time she saw one of her boyfriends touching me. Yeah, that pretty much sums up sweet mama Lopez for you."

Silence engulfed the room.

I stared at Caroline but the woman, like my mother, remained calm and emotionless following Santana's heart wrenching outburst.

"She was a hooker," Santana continued, slower and steadier this time with her  
voice void of any emotion.

I was surprised that she was continuing. Swirls of dread swam through  
my body.

"She was an addict, so they kind of went hand in hand," she said as a bitter laugh escaped her lips.

"She never wanted a kid; she was young, selfish, she never wanted me. She couldn't help it." Santana's face remained emotionless as her admission hung in the stale air.

"She treated me like an adult. I guess she never understood children."

I chanced a glance at the girl but Santana appeared lost in her own thoughts.

"The first one was called Adam," Santana continued breaking the fragile silence that had engulfed us.

"He was the 'love' of her life.' The usual bullshit; she was so fucking naïve. It was always the same; she believed all the bullshit lines they fed her," Santana declared, shaking her head as her hands clasped the chair once again.

"I remember my twelfth birthday… It was a really hot day, like really hot  
and the apartment we were sharing had no air conditioning. Adam said he'd take me to the shop for ice cream. I can't remember where my mother was, but I don't recall her being there at the time. She was probably at work," Santana started, and I could already feel the dread building inside me as a slowly understood where the story was going.

I grasped the arms of my own chair as apprehension and nausea swept through  
me.

I knew what was coming; it was like witnessing a horrible accident that you knew was about to happen but you couldn't tear your eyes away.

"He drove a beat up Chevy, and I used to love it whenever he took me places...but then…then I remember we were driving past the corner shop! I remember being really confused because it was the only shop that sold ice cream. I asked him where we were going and he said it was a surprise for my birthday. I was really excited obviously, but then...then we were at this creek down by this river and I didn't get what the surprise was..."

I stared hesitantly at the Latina following the pause in her story. She appeared to be in a dream like state as her eyes remained focused on the wall.

She inhaled deeply.

"He told me I was a big girl, and he wanted to show me what big girls do."

I stared at Santana drawing blood from my over chewed lip, bracing myself for what was to come and totally unaware if my heart could take any more of her confession; luckily I was met with silence.

I felt the familiar sting of wetness in my eyes and turned my head away from the two woman embarrassed by my tears when Santana was the one who was truly hurting.

I sobbed quietly as I tried to hide my face from the two women as best I could.

It was clear that I hadn't succeeded when I heard the scratch of metal on wood and lithe arms engulfed my shaking body.

Instantly I knew the arms belonged to Santana.

We had become so accustomed to one another that our bodies now molded as one.

I reached out blindly, wrapping my arms around her neck as I sobbed into her chest.

"Shhhhhh," she cooed as her fingers drew light circles on my back.

"It's okay Britt. Don't cry. Please?"

I nodded fiercely into her shoulder as shame flooded through my body. This was all so wrong I should've been the one comforting her.

I used my fist to roughly wipe away the offending tears until Santana grabbed my wrist, stopping my rough ministrations.

My eyes locked with hers and I nodded fiercely trying desperately to convey everything I was feeling. Santana's dark orbs held nothing but understanding.

"I'm not there anymore...I'm not there" she explained slowly, her forehead  
resting on mine.

I inhaled her scent hungrily, and her warmth and comfort calmed me instantly.

She offered me a small smile before removing her body from mine and lowering  
herself back into her chair.

I wrapped my arms around myself, missing her touch immediately.

"That's enough for today."

My head turned instantly as I stared at the woman behind the desk. I'd completely forgotten she was present.

I shook my head rapidly as my eyes scrunched in confusion. The words were out of my mouth before I could give my brain time to filter them.

"That's it? She's finally talking and that's it? Are you not like going to talk to her about it? You can't just leave it there!" I barked, failing miserably to keep my emotions in check.

Caroline smiled softly which only ignited my growing fury.

"That's all for today...small steps," she repeated calmly.

I opened my mouth to reply but closed it rapidly as Santana's hand came to rest on my shoulder urging me to stop. Her eyes were pleading as I finally processed the situation.

"I'm...I'm sorry. You're the professional...I just...I'm sorry," I whispered pathetically, completely ashamed by my reactions.

"Real mature," I sighed inwardly.

"It's fine sweetheart. You obviously care a lot about your friend. You just want to help her. It's completely natural."

I smiled gently at the woman, her kindness fueling my already over emotional state.

"Would you be comfortable with coming back next week?" the woman asked, her  
gaze now trained on Santana.

"Yeah…I um guess," the Latina responded her voice small and unsure.

"Very good! That's great because we have a lot to work on, but your talking was the first step," Caroline assured.

"Oh and before you go Santana, just as a little exercise, I'd like you to try and picture what you would like to be doing or where you would like to be in say ten to fifteen years? What is your own perfect or ideal scenario? I want you to really think about it and we'll discuss it next week, okay?"

"Okay," the Latina shrugged, visibly confused by the exercise.

"Great...that's great," the woman smiled before walking us to the door.

/

"Hey mum…yeah, we're ready. Yeah, it was fine mum. We'll be in the cafe across the street. Okay, yeah. Okay, bye!"

I slipped the phone into my jean pocket annoyed by my mother's instant barrage of questions.

"She'll be here in twenty minutes," I sighed, addressing the Latina who was walking silently beside me.

"Okay," she replied airily, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

Since exiting Caroline's office we had yet to actually converse with each other.

The unfamiliarity of the situation was making me uneasy. I wanted to talk to Santana but my fear of saying the wrong thing powered my silence. I was completely overwhelmed and emotionally drained by the events of the day.

"Um do you wanna get some coffee while we wait?" I asked softly, my eyes fixed on the building across the street.

"Umm...yeah," Santana replied as she stuffed her hands into her pockets and followed my lead.

We sat in silence each lost in our own thoughts.

The drive home was no different as I struggled to process the shocking and heartbreaking information I had received. It was all too much. It was all suddenly so real.

My mother filled the awkward silences as she rambled on about mundane events.

Santana sat at one side of the car seat, while I occupied the other.

The distance was respectable for anyone else, but for us it was alien and foreign.

I could feel Santana glance at me regularly, almost manically, but I couldn't bring myself to return her gaze; I couldn't bring myself to close the gap.

That evening was awkward and overwhelming.

I wanted to approach Santana. I wanted us to be how we were before her "session," but I couldn't and we'd changed. I could feel it.

/

Over the next few days Santana kept her distance. I'd catch her looking at me and I'd see her eyes filled with confusion and sadness. My heart clenched painfully at the sight. I truly wanted to reach out and hold her, but every time I tried, I'd see it; him, with his hands all over her. She had been so young and I couldn't process it in my mind without feeling completely uncomfortable and nauseous.

Her whole demeanor changed, and I knew I was to blame. She started spending her free time with Puck and it was killing me, although, I had no one to blame but myself.

I'd pushed her away when she was most vulnerable.

I was a fucking joke.

/

It was Saturday evening and Santana was at Breadstix with Puck. I was at home lying on the couch, trying desperately not to think about what they were doing on their date.

"Honey, I'm going to work. Cory's staying at Paul's house okay?" my mother shouted as her head appeared in the doorway.

"Yeah," I yawned, completely entranced by the reality show I was watching.

"Sweetie, I don't know what's going on between you and San, but will you please fix it. I'm sick of watching the two of you mope around the house. Both of you are clearly miserable so fix it for everyone's sake. Love you. Bye!"

My mother was out the door before I had time to process her words. My mouth gaped open for a moment, before I shut it quickly, sighing deeply.

As much as I really hated to admit it, she was right. I needed to talk to Santana; to explain.

/

My eyes cracked open as I heard the front door slam. It was half past ten, but I'd been in bed for the past hour mulling over what I was going to say to the brunette. My mouth was dry and my mind exhausted as I waited anxiously.

After what felt like hours, the sound of footsteps ascending the stairs echoed around the room. The bedroom door opened slowly and I was confronted with the Latina.

Santana wore a tight fitting black dress with one shoulder and "my" very high red heels. She looked amazing and I was momentarily distracted as I drank in every inch.

Her eyes met mine briefly before she averted her gaze quickly.

"Sorry, I thought you were asleep," she mumbled, making her way over to the closet.

I flinched at her tone.

"How the fuck did we let it come to this? We're acting like complete strangers," I observed inwardly.

"I was waiting for you," I answered rapidly, causing her head to jerk up and her gaze to rest on me.

"Why?" she asked her tone suddenly cold.

"I deserve that," I sighed, ignoring the hurt coursing through my body.

"I wanted to say that...that I'm sorry for the way I've been acting lately. I know I've been kind of off," I said, cringing at how lame and pathetic I sounded.

Santana turned suddenly.

"You've been 'kind of off?' KIND OF FUCKING OFF?" she shouted loudly, causing my eyes to widen in shock.

"Yeah, okay. Really off but..."

"No, you don't get to talk!" she answered firmly, her eyes never leaving mine.

I nodded mutely as the hurt continued coursing through my body.

She closed the distance between us until there was less than a foot distancing our bodies.

"I trusted you," she continued, her voice softer this time.

Her eyes were now clouded with hurt and sadness.

"I know I'm so..." she silenced me instantly, shaking her head at my pathetic excuses.

"I trusted you. I opened up to you. Do you know how hard that is for me? I laid it all on the table and...and you do this to me? You can't even look at me, let alone touch me. What did I do?...What did I do Britt?" her voice cracked as soft sobs racked her body.

I reached out trying to comfort her, but she swatted my hand away causing tears to fall from my own eyes.

"San," I pleaded "Let me explain!"

"Explain what Brittany? Why you've been ignoring me for days? Do you even know how that made me feel? Do you have any idea how confused I've been? Do you have any idea how much it fucking HURT! I needed you...I needed YOU!" she cried as fat tears slid down her face and her shoulders shook softly.

I swallowed the monumental lump in my throat, wiping the wet from my own puffy eyes.

My heart clenched tightly as I attempted to control my erratic breathing.

My body ached violently every time a gentle sob escaped the Latina's perfect lips.

Unable to stand the tension any longer, I reached out and pulled the smaller girl into a tight embrace. I wrapped my arms around the small of her back pulling her body flush against mine.

"No! Get off me! I ...I hate you!" she cried, fighting against me.

I tightened my grip as my head connected with her shoulder, blinking away the tears as her words sank through my skin.

"I love you!" I sobbed. "I love you San!"

Her body slowly went slack in my arms as she stopped fighting and collapsed into the embrace.

I carefully rested her head on my chest as my arms tightened around her tiny waist.

"I love you," I repeated softly, over and over again until I felt her body relax into mine.

Her arms, which had hung limply at her sides, suddenly wrapped around my waist clinging to me desperately. We stood sobbing into each other for what felt like hours.

I'd missed the intimacy we'd shared and I found myself reveling in any form of it regardless of the situation.

I felt her head lift from my chest as her eyes hesitantly met mine.

"I'm sorry," she sniffed as she wiped at her wet cheeks.

"For what?" I asked extremely confused by her abrupt admission.

"For whatever I did," she replied softly.

My heart shattered as I stared at the broken girl. I shook my head as a fresh onslaught of tears poured unashamedly from my red rimmed eyes.

"No. Don't be sorry. You did nothing wrong. It was me San. I got ...I got a bit overwhelmed," I sighed failing miserably in my explanation.

"Come to bed," I whispered not trusting my voice.

She nodded slowly before we parted and she began preparing for sleep.

I lay on my side, waiting anxiously. She appeared from the bathroom wearing a white tank top and a pair of my black short shorts.

Santana slowly lifted the duvet and slid under the covers.

I instantly closed the distance we had created in the past few days by shifting her body towards mine and pulling the top half of her torso over my own. The position allowed our bare legs to tangle in a delicious twist of limbs.

I breathed a sigh of relief into her hair, glad to have her back in my personal space.

Her chin rested softly on my chest, the top of her hair tickling my jaw.

She shifted slightly placing her face in the crook of my neck. My breath hitched slightly as her soft breasts pressed against mine.

Her hands encircled my neck as she drew soft circles on my nape. I trailed my fingers up her sides sliding the material of her top up and down.  
Her breathing evened out as I relaxed into the normalcy of the situation; our normal.

"I don't hate you," she whispered. The words were muffled due to the proximity of her lips to the skin of my neck.  
I continued my ministrations on her sides, swirling the pads of my fingers over the soft skin I encountered.

"San...Every time I saw you I kept seeing it happening. It was so vivid, It made me feel sick and I didn't know how to be around you. I didn't know how to be 'us.' I was scared," I whispered hoping the Latina would understand my further explanations.

"You should have talked to me about it Britt. I thought..." She stopped mid sentence, burying her face further into the crook of my neck.

I ignored the tickling sensation I was experiencing as I tried to probe the girl.

"You thought what San?" I enquired squeezing her hip bones slightly, drawing her attention back to me.

"I don't know…I just thought maybe you thought... I don't know that I was being dramatic and it wasn't that bad or maybe it was my fault...I don't know," she whispered; her voice small.

My ministrations on her back stilled as the weight of her confession hit me like a rough slap to the face.

My breathing became labored as guilt washed through me. I'd been so fucking preoccupied with my own feelings that I'd given little or no thought to how the Latina had been feeling.

I pulled her body upwards, placing my hands on her jaw line and gently resting her forehead on mine. Our noses brushed lightly and her breath mixed sweetly with mine.

Her eyes were hooded due to the exertion caused by her crying and I brushed my nose against hers again, feeling her body stiffen slightly at the action.

"You did nothing wrong. Don't ever blame yourself. If I made you feel like that, I'm so fucking sorry because I love you so much and to think that I hurt you like that makes me feel physically sick."  
My voice cracked audibly as I trailed off.

Santana's eyes locked with mine before she lowered her head and began placing light wet kisses along my jaw line.

"Don't ...don't do that again Britt. I missed you. I was ...I was a mess without you," she replied, chuckling nervously even though her voice was weighed down with emotion.

My eyes locked with hers as our lips brushed softly.

"I won't," I answered firmly.

She cupped my cheeks, pressing her lips forcefully to mine. It was hard and desperate and perfect.  
Santana's hands wrapped around my neck pulling my mouth till we were fused as one; I moved my lips softly against hers, desperately pouring everything I was feeling into the movements of my mouth.

Our eyes remained open throughout the kiss and it was one of the most intimate exchanges I'd ever experienced.

Santana pulled back slightly as her eyes burned into my own.

She allowed the full weight of her body to press down onto mine before returning her face to the crook of my neck.

I wrapped my arms around her body, holding her protectively.

I listened to her breathing even out and her exhales left a trail of goose bumps on my neck.

After lying with her for an hour or so, I carefully detached her sleeping body from my own.

I slowly laid her down on the other side of the bed, covering her with the duvet and taking care not to rouse her. She reached out wrapping herself around the covers, clearly missing my embrace.

I breathed a sigh of relief when her breathing evened out once more.

I slowly tip toed over to my desk powering up my laptop and I waited patiently for my desktop to appear.

My hand shook uncontrollably as I opened my internet home page.

I ignored the tears spilling form my eyes as I typed shakily into the search engine,

"I think I'm gay"

TBC

Tell me your thoughts


	9. Chapter 9

**AN:I can only apologise for the pathetic amount of time it took to get this chapter done!Im a fail I know!Chapters will be updated regularly from now on!Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed and have taken the time to read this it means a lot !Big thanks to my beta "theveiledfairy" shes awesome NBG !Enjoy this chapter you guise :)...and yeahhhhh new york right :)**

Chapter 9

It's hard to be yourself when you don't know who you are, but harder when you're terrified of being yourself. I never wanted any of this. This wasn't supposed to happen to me! I was going to meet a nice guy, get married, pop out a few kids and live happily ever after. It's not like I rigorously planned my future wedded bliss in detail, it was just a given that it was going to happen eventually. It's kind of terrifying when that "simple life" you thought you always wanted is wrenched from your grasp in the blink of an eye. You fucking hate labels. You don't want to cut your hair or change your clothes.

You're just you.

You didn't ask to be this way, You didn't want this,….You don't want this!

She changed everything. Your entire existent is going to change and the raw empty fear overwhelms you completely.

You can't think about it…You won't!

Unfortunately, in a deliciously bitter twist, life has a way of fucking us all over in the end; it's kind of poetic really…

**Brittany's POV**

"Brittany, are you even listening?"

"What? Yes mother I'm listening," I replied nonchalantly, shaking myself from the continuous daze I often found myself entering recently.

"Good! Now, you know the rules, No drinking, No narcotics and no sexual activity under my roof, I'm trusting you and Santana."

I flinched slightly, shakily lifting my glass of juice to my parched lips.

"Yeah, I got it mom!" I retorted failing to hide the bitterness lacing my tone.

Silence engulfed the small kitchen as an unfamiliar tension blanketed itself around the room.

"Britt…? Are you okay? Is there anything you want to talk about? I'd hate to leave if something was bothering you…"

I forced myself to meet and hold my mother's gaze. "Does she know?" I questioned inwardly as panic seized my body instantaneously.

"Fuck!" I screamed silently when my palms began to perspire.

"What? No I'm fine mom I'm just tired," I answered abruptly, hoping my voice masked my current inner turmoil.

"You sure Brittany? You haven't really been yourself lately…"

I concentrated on returning my erratic breathing to a more acceptable level before I answered her.

"Other than the fact that I'm pretty sure I'm gay and completely in love with Santana, I'm just fanfuckingtastic," I snarked internally.

"I'm just tired mom. You know; with glee and cheerleading. It'll ease up soon though," I replied refusing to meet her gaze but forcing a visibly strained smile to grace my lips.

My mother's eyes locked with mine and I unexpectedly wilted under her gaze.  
She couldn't know just by looking at me, could she? Could everyone?

I tasted the familiar tang of bile settle in the back of my throat.

"Okay Britt, but if you ever need to talk I'm here you know."

I released a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. My entire body relaxed as my breathing slowly returned to normal; my normal anyways. Ever since my revelation, living with Santana had left me in a constant state of anxiousness.

"I know mom…Thanks," I answered awkwardly, averting my gaze to my untouched breakfast.

"Where's Santana? Me and Cory will have to leave soon if we want to get there in time."

"Showering," I replied lazily basking in the overwhelming relief at having ended the previous conversation.

"I hope she gets down here soon. I want to see her before I go," my mother sighed draining her cup of coffee and placing the worn ceramic mug in the sink.

"Just promise me you won't burn the house down or kill anyone Britt," my mother pleaded.

I failed to hold back the genuine chuckle that escaped from my pursed lips.

"Relax mom. Seriously Santana's like, nearly eighteen already. We'll be fine," I answered as a small smile framed my face.

"I know Britt, I know. It's just that its two whole days! I also know I have to let you grow up, but you can't blame me for worrying."

I glanced at my mother smiling softly as she mirrored my actions. It was the first genuine smile we'd shared in years.

I turned my attention to my now deformed cornflakes forcing small spoon full's of the soggy substance down my throat.

I felt my mother's gaze burning a hole in my back

"Britt?"

I glanced upwards at the mention of my name meeting her eyes and waiting patiently for her to continue.

"I know we have discussed this but are you sure you're okay with me not being here tomorrow?" my mother's tone softened, her gaze hesitantly meeting mine.

I felt the shift in the atmosphere as I chewed my bottom lip manically.

"I told you, its fine. It's not like I celebrate it anyway," I retorted coldly.

"I know Britt it's just…"

I flinched slightly as a barrage of fresh and momentarily forgotten emotions rocked my body.

I stood abruptly from the table, flung my bowl in the sink, ignored the piercing clatter it produced and hastily exited the room.

….

"Okay girls, promise to call me three times a day. If you don't I'll presume the worst and call the police."

Santana chuckled softly at my mother's completely serious statement.

My mother's gaze softened instantly as her eyes settled on the thoroughly amused Latina.

"Okay, okay I'm going. Love you both, and be good."

I smiled softly meeting my mother's gaze, silently communicating that I was sorry for my previous outburst. My mother smiled brightly launching herself at me and wrapping her soft arms around my rigid body.

"Love you Britt," she whispered.

"Love you too," I replied, the words feeling foreign but surprisingly pleasant on my tongue.

My mother turned to Santana wrapping her in a similar embrace. I could hear muffled words being exchanged but frustratingly couldn't decipher any plausible meaning.

I glanced at my younger brother who was growing increasingly impatient at my mother's side.

"See ya soon squirt," I spoke affectionately, rubbing his mop of brown hair.

"See ya stink face," he replied chuckling, his tongue poking out from between his lips.

"Okay, Okay were going, bye girls…Be safe."

I shuffled closer to Santana in the archway of the front door. We wordlessly watched the pair as they disappeared from sight.

"Guess we better get ready for school," I sighed shattering the quiet which engulfed us.

Santana slowly turned to face me a wicked smile playing on her lips.

"Britt, I don't feel so good," she smirked, a small pout playing on her delicious full lips.

I quickly averted my gaze from her perfect pink pout chastising myself silently.

"I don't think I'm well enough for school today," she continued her smile growing.

"Well …I can't just leave you here on your own. What if you vomit and …and choke?" I replied knowingly a similar smile now gracing my features.

"My thoughts exactly, Britt. When did you get so clever?" she smiled softly, her eyes meeting mine shyly.

I was momentarily locked in her gaze;bewitched by dark swirling orbs and smiling like the village idiot.

"We are having a movie day. Just me you and Mr. Jack Daniels," she sang, wrenching me from my blatant leering and causing a light blush to paint my cheeks.

…

"Ughhhhh, I really don't feel good."

I smiled lazily at the Latino who was currently sprawled across the couch, clutching her stomach tightly.

"Well, maybe, and this is just a wild guess, but it may have something to do with the two pints of chocolate fudge ice-cream you just devoured, YOU BEAST! Not to mention half a bottle of Jack Daniels…"

I laughed loudly at the glare currently being sent my way.

"Oh shut up! You're just jealous because I can eat like that and still have a body like this." Santana emphasized her point by dragging her palms up her sides with a smirk playing across her face. This was quickly replaced by a grimace as her body was violently rocked by a fresh wave of cramps.

"Britt, I'm dying," she whispered.

I smiled lovingly at the older brunette, the alcohol I'd consumed was lulling my body into a comfortable and serene state.

"Want me to play nurse?"  
My eyes slowly widened as the realization of what I'd just implied settled heavily in my mind. I instantly regretted my offer and prayed that she was too immersed in her imminent death to hear me. I averted my gaze, willing my blush to dissipate.

"Yes," she croaked her eyes squeezed shut in pain.

My eyes widened comically as I sat glued to the armchair, suddenly immensely uncomfortable and unsure of how to progress.

"Rub my belly," she ordered her voice taking on the tone of a bratty six year old girl.

I laughed softly, silently debating how someone could be so fucking sexy and adorable at the same time.

"Of course," I replied, slowly making my way over to the couch.

"Sit up," I chuckled, hovering unsteadily over the curled up girl.

"Can't" she whispered, keeping her eyes firmly clasped shut.

"San, I can't rub your stomach if you're just lying there," I explained softly, my voice taking on a slightly more serious tone.

Without opening her eyes she silently shifted her body inwards, providing a minute space for me to lie down beside her. I shook my head slowly as she opened her eyes, meeting my gaze and smirking unashamedly. I gently lowered myself to the couch as I attempted to perch my body on the small area she had offered.

"Um…not enough room, San. Guess all that ice-cream is finally having an effect."

I gaped in mock horror playfully poking her flat stomach.

"Ha Ha, you're just so funny, Brittany," she retorted turning her body inwards, grabbing my hand and molding my body into her own in one swift movement.

"There," she chanted in her tone playful, "now make me feel better."

I tensed at her words. I felt a familiar tingle in my lower abdomen as I chewed my lower lip anxiously.

I swallowed a gasp as she slowly guided my hand under her white tank top.

The unexpected sensation of warm skin on skin caused the unfamiliar tingling to rapidly intensify.

With her hand gently covering my own, she carefully guided my fingers over her taunt flat stomach in slow soothing swirling motions.

"Mmmmm, feels good," she moaned softly. "Don't stop"

My cheeks quickly reddened at her words. Her hand slowly left mine allowing me to continue my ministrations unaided.

She slowly eased her back into my front, pressing her lithe body flush against my own. My breathing quickened and I begged my body to refrain from broadcasting my current state of arousal.

I eventually formed a soothing rhythm grazing my fingers over supple skin.

The alcohol in my system dulled my emotions slightly, allowing me to momentarily enjoy the extremely intimate act.

I'd distanced myself physically from the Latina in the previous weeks, not willing to trust myself in her presence. I know she'd noticed a change in my behavior but thankfully, she had refrained from voicing any concerns.

I basked in her scent suddenly hyper aware of every inch of soft skin currently pressed against me. Before I could over think it, I gently kissed the exposed caramel skin on her neck.

She shifted suddenly twisting her body to face mine. She smiled lazily as our noses gently collided.

"I have a surprise for you," she grinned, her eyes shining.

"Go on," I murmured.

"You and I are invited to Pucks birthday party tomorrow night. His parents are gone for the weekend and all the seniors are going to be there," she smiled enthusiastically, her eyes growing animated following her admission.

"Oh," I squeaked feeling my body tense uncomfortably.

"Oh?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow at me.

"That's great," I lied, trying to recover quickly.

Her eyes locked with mine and she knew I was lying.

"You don't want to go?" she asked. Her eyes scrunched up in confusion as they searched mine.  
No, it's not that. I just thought maybe we could go for dinner or something. I was going to… well I meant to ask you earlier; mom left me money so we could go."

She laughed softly.

"Um dinner, Britt? Really? We can go for dinner whenever. This party is going to be banging," she replied, nudging my shoulder playfully with her own and ignoring my offer completely.

I dismissed the painful clench in my chest.

"Yeah, you're right. It sounds great."  
I forced a smile to dance across my lips as I squeezed her waist in an attempt to feign some form of happiness following her proposition.

"Cool beans," she smirked as her body once again relaxed into my own.

…

I could hear the steady thump of music before we even rounded the corner of Pucks estate.

"Sounds like the party's in full swing."

I nodded in silent agreement, glancing at the Latina walking beside me.

She wore a figure hugging black strapless dress that clung to her toned body and enhanced her sensuous curves deliciously.

I stared down at my denim shorts teamed with a tight fitting white t-shirt and suddenly felt completely inferior and thoroughly underdressed. Santana noticed the exchange and her hand reached out to stop me mid stroll.

"You look amazing, Britt. Seriously. Like super hot. Stop fidgeting."

I blushed under her compliments, dropping my eyes to the floor.

"You have to say that. I mean, you did pick out my outfit," I replied, grinning softly.

She shook her head good naturedly, rolling her eyes before smiling back.

"Okay, last check. How do I look?" she questioned, striking a dramatic pose as she waited for my verdict which caused me to laugh loudly at her vanity.

I pulled myself together before studying her form intently. I dragged my eyes over her body, beginning at her sleek perfectly styled hair and finally settling on black and gold stiletto heels.

"Perfect," I whispered, suddenly overwhelmed.

"Ahh, Britt. You're such a cutie," she said, laughing softly as her eyes met mine shyly.

I blushed furiously for the hundredth time that night before turning on my heels and following the Latina to the front door.

It swung open to reveal a clearly inebriated Puck.

"Hola, chicas! Oh! I'm liking the looks tonight," he remarked. His eyes roamed over our bodies as he leaned lazily against the doorframe for support.

I sneered subtly, repulsed by his horny adolescent display.  
"Hey baby," he cooed, focusing his attention solely on the Santana.

"Hey," she drawled seductively. I turned my attention away, searching for something, anything to distract me from the sexually charged interaction. My stomach clenched painfully.

I hesitantly turned my attention back to the now silent pair; they appeared to be currently locked in each other's gaze.

I felt the familiar string of bile sting the back of my throat for the second time as I shifted awkwardly, suddenly wishing I was at home in my bed. As if sensing my discomfort, Santana broke eye contact and looped her arm tightly through mine as we stepped forward into the house.  
She placed a light kiss on Puck's cheek as she passed and it seemed to appease him for the time being.

She tugged gently on my arm as we surveyed the unfamiliar surroundings. Countless bodies filled the noisy house. Some were dancing energetically, more were sitting in dark corners with hands roaming under shirts, and some were sleeping or passed out on the floor.

Santana's eyes locked with mine.

"Let's get our drink on!"

Music and lights fade into a calming hypnotic swirl. I'm beyond drunk as I struggled to take in my surroundings. Faces were a passing blur as I stumbled towards what I could only guess was the kitchen. It was full of strange bodies and nameless faces engaging in conversations I couldn't begin to try and comprehend.  
I finally saw her standing by the sink, leaning against someone who resembles Puck. I squinted my eyes, scrunching one closed as I tried to focus my sight. I stumbled suddenly, falling forward and laughing loudly as strong arms haul me upwards.

"Whoa, you okay Blondie?"

I glanced momentarily at my savior before shrugging free and walking towards the giggling Latina.

"Now that is an entrance, Britt you okay?" she questioned. Her words were slurring and her eyes glossy and shining under the bright lights.

"Peachy keen," I grinned. My tongue felt heavy in my mouth.

"You went dancing like eight hours ago," she replied as her head lolled gently on her shoulders. I'm momentarily preoccupied, captivated, by the shine radiating from her hair.

She clicked her fingers snapping me from my daze instantly.

"I was dancing" I deadpanned, willing my gaze to focus, even momentarily, on her swaying face.

She unhooked herself from Puck's arm before dragging my body into hers. Puck vanished mumbling something about tequila and body shots. I ignored his departure as my eyes fixed on the chocolate orbs blinking back at me lazily.

"I missed you," she whispered as she tightened her arms around my waist. Her breath was hot against my neck, and I shuddered involuntarily.

"Missed you to," I smiled, allowing myself to sink into her embrace.

She gently pulled her face from the crook of my neck her locking her eyes with my own. Her lips tugged upwards at each corner as she swayed us slowly to the beat radiating through the house.

"You're pretty," she whispered. Her eyes flickered and a slight blush was evident on her features, even through my drunken haze.

Our eyes met again and the atmosphere shifted suddenly. I glanced at her full lips before returning my attention to her eyes. She noticed the exchange and her eyes beamed back at me. Our surroundings faded to black as we held each other both with our arms and with our gazes. I leaned forward slightly, my eyes flickering between mocha swirls and full pink and her breath hitched as my nose brushed against hers.  
I stopped suddenly, searching her eyes for reassurance or disgust or anything at this point. I pressed my nose against hers, and her lips parted slightly in response. Hooded eyes locked with mine and I could feel the steady increase in her breathing. I surged forward, crashing my lips against hers.

"Fucking DYKES!"

I froze as Santana's body went rigid against mine. I tore myself away from her, stumbling awkwardly as I attempted to stand up straight. I turned slowly, willing the bile in my throat to dissipate.  
My body began to shake as my eyes landed on a thickly built boy wearing a McKinley football jacket and a look of utter disgust. I momentarily thanked god that the large crowd from earlier was no longer present.

"Don't let me interrupt…queers," he sneered.

I attempted, futilely, to push past the drunken haze stillclouding my mind. His mouth curled upwards into a snarl as hethrew looks of revulsion our way.

He laughed hollowly at my widened eyes as he left the room.

I sucked in large gulps of air as my trembling body collidedloudly with the wooden counter top.

My breathing quickened as panic flowed freely through myshaking body.

I twirled around suddenly, having completely forgotten aboutSantana standing there.

"Shit San…What will we ….Fuck".

I stared at the stoic Latina. Her eyes were fixed on the wall;emotionless and unmoving.

"San?" I whispered as, fear coursing through my veins.

Her head snapped up suddenly.

"What the fuck were you thinking Brittany? We're at a fuckingparty with people we go to fucking school with!Jesus fucking Christ! I mean what the fuck was that! Do you want the whole fucking school to think we're fucking? That we're fuckingDYKES?" she spat as her eyes seethed with anger. Her handsclenched tightly in rage at her sides.

I flinched as her words sliced through my skin and a quietwhimper escaped my lips. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing thealcohol to somehow leave my system so that I could was happening so fast. I just needed it to stop. I needed to sit down.

"San… It wasn't just… It's not really that big of a deal. It'snot like we haven't done it before."  
I regretted the words the instant they left my lips.

Santana's eyes bore into mine, burning with emotions I hadnever witnessed before. I recoiled slightly as her glare cut through me icily.

"Look Brittany, I don't know what the fuck you think this is,  
but I have a boyfriend who happens to be here tonight! I like  
boys, Brittany. Boys! You and I are friends; nothing more.  
Whatever happened shouldn't have and will never happen again.  
I was in a fucked up place, okay? I'm just starting to really  
settle in at this school. How the fuck am I going to fix this  
one? JESUS! Are you really that fucking dense! No way am I  
throwing everything away because you have some stupid fucking  
crush!"

I clamped my eyes tightly, embarrassed as they gradually filled with tears.

I chewed my bottom lip anxiously, looking everywhere but at Santana.

"She's just drunk" I repeated silently, over and over again.

My whole body ached following her admission. My chest burned and my head swam. Her vicious words resonated loudly in the now empty room.

I turned quickly needing to get as far away from her as possible. It was too much; I couldn't breathe.

I ran, stumbling through the sea of bodies and swiping furiously at the tears staining my face. I gasped as I  
collided with a brick wall, falling helplessly to the ground.

I shrieked as "the brick wall" lifted me to my feet. I locked eyes with the boy recognizing him instantly as the homophobe from the kitchen.

"Sweet fucking Jesus, can this night get any fucking worse?" I cried silently.

"It's you," he grunted.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, forcing my gaze downwards.

He stared at me silently.

"About what you saw in the kitchen… It wasn't what you thought. We're just friends; Santana's with Puck. We were just joking around," I clasped my hands together nervously, hoping he would buy my excuse and then maybe Santana wouldn't hateme.

I could fix this. I had to fix it. My chest tightened as my mind focused on her. She'd been so angry, so…

"Whatever," he grumbled. His eyes racked over my body slowly, I wilted under his unwavering gaze.

"I'm leaving," I announced suddenly, addressing no one in particular.

"I'll take you," he replied, and his tone left no room for argument. I studied his face intently. "Fuck it," I thought hopelessly,

"What do I have to lose?"

Santana remained frozen in the kitchen. She hadn't moved following her interaction with Brittany. Her chest burned and her eyes watered. She hadn't meant it. She hadn't meant any of it! The heartbreaking exchange had been a sobering slap for the troubled Latina. Her throat burned as she recalled her drunken, vicious accusations. Bile rose in her throat as images of the shattered blonde flittered relentlessly through  
her mind.

"Fuck!" she screamed internally, wishing suddenly that she could turn back time and retract her words. She had to find her; she had to explain.

She moved instantly, exiting the kitchen and fighting her way through the throng of her drunken classmates. She surveyed her surroundings, hoping to witness a shock of blonde hair and blue eyes somewhere in the crowd.

Her searching came up fruitless as she barreled onwards desperately. She quickly spotted Puck leaning against the staircase talking rather intimately to a blonde who she instantly recognized as Quinn. She ploughed her way through the crowd and approached them.

"Have you seen Brittany?" she questioned abruptly, interrupting the duo mid conversation. Puck turned towards her as a mild flash of guilt sparked in his dark eyes. Quinn stared stoically at the brunette, seemingly unperturbed by the interruption.

"Yeah… Um, she left with Karofsky."

Santana cringed at Puck's admission.

"Are you okay babe?" he asked watching the Latina intently.

"She seemed pretty upset."

Santana's gaze immediately settled on the, until then, silent  
blonde.

"I don't even know why she was here; I mean she never comes out on her…"

"She was invited," snarled Santana.

"I know. It's just she never celebrates her birthday. I didn't think I'd see her tonight."

The Latina froze almost comically following Quinn's words.

"Its… It's her Birthday?" the Latina whimpered, her eyes glossy and wide.

"Yeah, babe. We share the same birthday," Puckoffered, visibly confused by the his girlfriend's reaction.

"Oh fuck! God no…please!" the Latina cried silently.

"Her dad left on her birthday," Quinn continued icily, wrenching the dazed Latina from her thoughts.

"She doesn't like to remember it…I guess."

Santana darted towards the front door, disappearing before  
Quinn could continue.

**Brittany's POV**

"Yeah, you like that!" he grunted.

I clenched my eyes shut, as he thrust upwards, unforgiving as he pounded into my narrow frame. I attempted to block him out, willing my mind to wander elsewhere.I flinched as he plunged into dry heat roughly; repeatedly.

My back ached as I was continuously pummeled into the scratchy fabric covering his car seats. I prayed silently that he would finish soon, and I found new faith in god as he thrust upwards once more before collapsing heavily against me.

His hot breath fanned my face for a few agonizing minutes until he pulled out roughly, fixing his jeans without casting a glance my way.

I felt surprisingly… proud.

"There, I did it. I'm not gay," I thought cynically.

I couldn't think about her…I wouldn't.

"I'll see you around," he grumbled nonchalantly, ripping me from my inner thoughts.

I nodded slowly and deliberately, before hastily exiting the car without sparing him a second glance. My legs felt like lead as I stumbled towards my house.

I felt hollow, empty, and hopelessly lonely. I pushed the front door open, staggering up  
the stairs, and collapsed roughly on an empty bed.

I desperately pushed the tears away as I attempted to succumb to sleep.

…...

My eyes opened hesitantly as the sound of the front door slamming wrestled me from a restless sleep. My ear cocked in attempt to listen.

I was sleepily unaware of and uninterested in who may be in the house. Light footsteps graced the  
staircase causing my body to tremble slightly.  
"It's her," I thought bitterly.

I remained stoic, willing my body to give way to sleep once more. I froze as the door of my bedroom was pushed open slowly.  
Harsh light flooded my eyes causing me to clench them shut instantly. I listened attentively, my breath held, as  
footsteps slowly approached my bed.

"Britt?" she whispered. Her voice was small and hesitant.

I refused to turn and meet her gaze.

"Britt… Please look at me." she whimpered. A gravely quality pervaded her voice which was hoarse from what I presumed was crying.

I tensed as the bed dipped under her weight. I felt her body gently collide with mine, but still I refused to  
acknowledge her presence in any way.

"Britt, I'm so fucking sorry… Please, Britt? Talk to me," she sobbed. Her entire body slumped heavily against my back.

Herarms encircled my waist and she clung to me tightly, burrowing her face deeply into my neck. Her soft sobs rocked our bodies as a harsh silence engulfed us.

I remained emotionless; my body was suddenly cold and unresponsive to her touch. Her pathetic apologies flittered through my mind only momentarily, before I cast them away roughly.

She pressed her body into mine. Our legs became a tangled web of skin on skin. Her embrace was fierce and desperate as she clung to me almost painfully.

"Britt please, I was drunk. I panicked." I could feel her warm breath on my neck. It contrasted violently with the ogre I'd let fuck me. The memory of it made me feel nauseous and my body tensed as vivid images of him thrusting into me filled my mind.

"Then that guy saw and I fucking panicked Britt…"

"You don't have to worry about him. I dealt with it," I barked harshly. Our close proximity was suddenly feeling invasive and making me claustrophobic.

I attempted to unwrap her body from mine as a wave of emotions barreled through my system, but her  
touch was unrelenting as she squeezed tighter locking me inside her surprisingly strong arms.

"What do you mean ….you dealt with it?" she whispered; her wavering voice unsteady as her mouth brushed against the sensitive shell of my ear.

I remained silent unwilling to say the words out loud. I was disgusted with myself.

"Britt…Baby…What did you do?"

Her term of endearment hung in the air causing a fresh wave of rage to flow through my body. I twisted abruptly, shifting my body around while still locked within her embrace.

We were nose to nose when my eyes locked with hers for the first time. Her hair was windswept and wild, her eyes puffy and red as I stared at her. I ignored the instinct to reach out and comfort her like I'd done so many times before.

"I dealt with it. You don't have to worry. Your social status is intact," I spat, venom dripping from my words. Her body flinched and her eyes watered but her tight hold on me remained. I didn't care, I wanted her to hurt. I wanted her to feel like I had in that kitchen just hours before.

"What did you do Britt?" she whispered eyes pleaded with me, seeking mine desperately. I refused to meet her gaze again.

"I FUCKED HIM SANTANA! YOU'RE IN THE CLEAR!" I raged, only regretting my words slightly as the reality of the situation resonated heavily in my now sober mind.

Santana remained eerily still.

"Please tell me you didn't Britt?…Please?" she whispered as soft sobs escaped around her whimpered pleas.

Shame flooded my body. I pursed my lips trying to will the tears away. Santana lurched forward suddenly throwing her body over mine and clinging to my t- shirt desperately. Her face rested on my chest as whimpers swam from her lips.

"Britt… It's so fucked up…I'm sorry…Everything's so fucked up," she cried.

I lay motionless beneath her. After what I'd done, my body and mind had become numb to everything.

She flung her arms around my neck fusing herself to me. I'd dreamed about us in similar positions to this, but now that we were here, I felt nothing. She balled her fists against my t-shirt, as a damp patch appeared on my neck where her head lay.

"I didn't mean it Britt. You have to know that I didn't mean it," she pleaded, lifting her head from my neck and searching my eyes desperately.

I still couldn't look at her.

"Please say were okay Britt? Please? I need you. I need you so fucking much!"

I finally glanced down and stared at the Latinas streaming bloodshot eyes. At, not into. I wasn't really seeing her; not like I normally did.

"Please Britt…? Say we're okay," Her voice was small and laced with desperation. I found it so hard to process anything with her body pressed so intimately against mine.

As much as I wished I could completely ignore what her body did to me, feeling the heat from her body on every inch of me was having a dizzying effect.

Santana's eyes grew fearful as silence once again blanketed the room. She brushed her nose softly against mine, holding my gaze.

"I love you."

My body tensed at her declaration. Her words hung heavily in the air. My fist clenched as I roughly forced her away from my body. I quickly pulled myself from the bed needing to distance myself from everything.

"You don't love anyone but yourself," I whispered as the hurt and heartbreak surged through my limbs, bubbling to the surface of my skin and finally spilling over. She collapsed against the empty bed as my intense gaze focused on her.

"Britt, of course I love you. You know that. You know that Brittany! Please!" she pleaded.

I was tired.

I was physically and emotionally drained. I just needed to sleep.

"You don't even know me," I whispered as I turned and abruptly exited the room.

TBC...I might try a fluffier chapter although Im kinda convinced I cant haha,let me know your thoughts :)


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